ami 



J 



i>^M 



'KJ: 



|-/WW 







Class r j \ D '.1 



\SG7 



Vffi 

■■•■a 









Hrf!«»^^^ 



'^'^fNrBf^^^' 



.AOnDnSO 



WKAt \nni 



^/^A^f^'^^ 



,An/>' 



r^^n.' 












^-A'^C^aOQS 



r^/^O0K'/n' 






THE 



3 2 . 



LADY OF THE LAKE 



Si $oem 



BY WAJ.TP:R SCOTT, ESQ 



^ a£Cfc>VEP . ^ 





CLARK & MATNARD, 
5 Barclay, St. 



^ 



0* 



■ ^^ y/ 






^ 



tf 



e 




TO THE MOST NOBLJt. 

JOHN JAMES, 

&c &r. &c. 

THIS POEM IS INSCKIhKD BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



COJNTENTS. 

PAOt 

CANTO 1. The Chase, ....9 

II. The Island, 33 

III. The Gathering,! 59 

IV. The Prophecy,! 81 

V. The Combat, 103 

VI. Tt^i' Guard-Room 131 



ARGdMEJNT. 

The Scene of the following Poem is laid cnieflj 
m the vicinity of Loch Katrine, in the Western 
Highlands of Perthshire. The Time of Action 
includes Six Days, and the transactions of each 
day occupy a Canto. 



^}l' 



«£. 



"^'^^D. % 






t,A»Y OF T'liE LAKE. 



CANTO FIRST. 



THE CHASE. 



MARP of the North ! that mouldering iong 
hast hung 
On the witch-elm that shades Sahit Fillai/'d 
spring, 
And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, 

Till envious ivy did around thee cling, 
Muflling with verdant ringlet every string, — 
O minstrel liarp, still must thine accents sleep? 
Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring, 
Still must thy sweeter sounds their silenco 
keep. 
Nor bid a warrior smile nor teacii a maid tu 
weep ? 
Not thus in ancient days of Caledon 
Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd* 

When lay of hopeless love or glory won, 
Aroused the fearful, or subdued the proud. 

At each according pause, was heard aloud 
Thine ardent symphony sublime and high. 



10 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto i. 

Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bovv'd ; 
For stdl the burden of thy Minstrelsy 
Was knig hthood's dauntless deed, and beauty's 
raatcliless eye. 

O wake once more ! how rude soe'er the hand 

That ventures o'er thy magic maze to stra}^ ; 
O wake once more ! tliough scarce my skill com 
mand 
Som-e feeble echoing of thine earlier lay ; 
Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away, 

And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, 
Yd if one heart throb higher at its sway, 
The wizard note has not been touched in 
vain. 
Then silent bo no more ! Enchantress wakt 
ttgRin! 



THE CHASE. 



I. 



THE stag at eve had drank his fill, 
Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, 
And deep his midnight lair liad made. 
In lone Glenartney's hazel shade , 
But, when the sun his beacon red 
Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head, 
The deep-mouthed blood-hound's heavy ba]|^ 
Resounded up the rooky way, 
And faint, from further distance borne, 
Wero heard the clanging hoof and horn. 
» 

11. 

As chief who hears his warder call, 

""To arms! the foemen storm the wall,'' — 

The antler'd monarch of the waste 

Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. 

But e'er his fleet career he took, 

The dew-drops from his flanks he shook ; 

Like crested leader proud and high, 

Tossed ills beamed frontlet to the sky; 

A moment gazed adovvn the dale, 

A moment snuffed the tainted gale, 

A moment listened to the cry. 

That thickened as the chase drew nigh ; 

Then as the headmost foes appeared, 

With one brave bound the copse he cleared. 

And, stretching forwara free and far. 

Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. 



V2 LADY OF TPIE LAKE. Canto I 

III. 

Y^ellcd on the view the opening pack, 
Rock, glen, and cavern paid tlieni back; 
To many a tninirled sound at once, 
Tlie awakened rnoiuitain gave response. 
An hundred dogs baj'ed deep and strong, 
Clattered an hundred steeds along, 
Their peal the merry horns rung out, 
An hundred voices joined the shout; 
With hark and v/hoop and wild halloa 
No rest Benvoirlicirs echoes knew. 
Far from the tumult fled tlie roe, 
Close '.n her covert cowered the doe, 
The falcon, from her cairn on high, 
Cast on the rout a wonderuig eye. 
Till far beyond her piercing ken 
The hurricane had swept the glen. 
Faint, and more faint, its failing din 
Returned from cavern, clilf, and linn, , 
And silence settled, wide and still. 
On the lone wood and mighty lull. 

IV. 

Less loTid the sounds of sylvan war 
Disturbed the heights of Uam-Var, 
And roused the cavern, where 'tis tcld 
A giant made his den of old ; 
F^or e'er that steep ascent was won, 
High in his pathway liung the sun. 
And many a gallant, stayed perforce, 
Was fain to breathe his faltering horse ; 
And of the trackers of the deer 
Scarce half the lessening pack was near? 
So shrewdly on the mountain side. 
Had the bold burst their mettle tried. 



The noble stag was pausing now. 
Upon the mountain's southern brow. 



Canto I. THE CHASE. 13 

Where broad extended, far bsneath, 
The varied realms of fair Menteith. 
With anxious eye he wandered o'er 
Mountain and meadow, moss and moor. 
And pondered refuge from his toil, 
By far Lochard or Aberfoyie. 
But nearer was the copse-wood gray. 
That waved and wept on Loch-Achray 
And mingled with the pine-irees blue 
On the bold cliffs of Benvenue. 
Fresh vigour witli the hope returned, 
With flying foot the heath he spurned, 
Held westward with unwearied race. 
And left behind the panting chase. 

VI. 

'Twere loTig to tell what steeds gave o'er, 
As swept tlio hunt through Cambus-moor; 
What reins were tightened in despair, 
When rose Benledi's bridge in air ; 
Who flagged upon Bocha;;tle"s heatli. 
Who shunned to stem the flooded Teith. — 
For twice, that day, from shore to shore. 
The gallant stag swam stoutly o'er. 
Few were the stragglers, foUowinig far, 
Tliat reached the lake of Vennachar 
And wlicn the Brigg of Turk was won. 
The headmost horseman rode alone. 

VII. 

Alone, but with unbated zeal, 

That horseman plied the scourge and stoci ; 

For jaded now, and spent with toil. 

Embossed with foam, and dark with soil, 

While every gasp witli sobs he drew, 

The labouring stag strained full in view. 

Two dogs of black Saint Hubert's breed. 

Unmatched for courage, breath, and speed 

Past on his flying traces came. 

And all but won that desperate game ; 



i't LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto L 

For, scarce a spear's length from his haunch. 

Vindictive toilod the blood-hounds stanch ; 

Nor nearer might the dogvS attain. 

Nor further might the quarry strain. 

Thus up the margin of the lake, 

Between the precipice and brake, 

O'er stock and rock their race they take. 

vm. 

The hunter marked that mountain high, 
The lone lake's western boundary, 
And deemed tl>o stag must turn to bay, 
Where that huge rampart barred the way; 
Already glorying in the prize, 
Measured his antlers with his eyes ; 
For the death-wound, and death-halloo. 
Mustered his breath, his whinyard drew ; 
But, thundering as he came prepared, 
With ready arm and weapon bared. 
The wily quarry shunned the shock. 
And turned him from the opposing rock; 
Then, dashing down a darksome glen, 
Soon lost to hound and himtcr's ken. 
In the deep Trosach's wildest nook 
His solitary refuge took. 
There while, close coucJied, the thicket shea 
Cold dews and wild flowers on his head, 
He heard the batHcd ilogs in vain 
Rave through the holidw pass amain, 
Chiding the rocks tliat yelled again. 

IX. 

Close on the hounds the hunter camo, 
To cheer them on the vani:;!ied gamej 
ButstumbUng in the rugL^eii dell. 
The gallant horse exhausted fell. 
The impatient rider strove in vain 
To rouse him with tlie spur and rein, 
For the good steed, his labf)urs o er. 
Stretched his stitf lunbs to rise no more; 



Canto I. THE CHASE. 15 

Then, tovichetl with pity and remorse, 
Ho sorrowed o'er the expiring horse. 
" I httle thought, when first thy rein 
1 slacked upon the banks of Seine, 
That highland eagle e'er should feed 
On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed i 
Wo worth the chase, wo wortli tlie day. 
That costs thy life, my gallant gray 1" 

X. 

Then through the dell his horn resounds, 
Prom vain pursuit to call the hounds. 
Back limped, with slow and crippled paco 
The sulky leaders of the chase ; 
Close to their master's side they pressed, 
With drooping tail and humbled crest ; 
But still the diny'le's hollow throat 
Prolonged the swelling bugle note. 
The owlets started from their dream. 
The eagles answered with their scream. 
Round and around the sounds w^ere cast 
Fill eclio seemed aa answering blast ; 
And on the hunter hied his pace. 
To join some comrades of the chase ; 
V^et often paused, so strange the road. 
So wondrous were the scenes it show d 

XI. 

The western waves of ebbing day 
Rolled o'er the glen their level way ; 
Each purple peak, each flinty .^pire. 
Was bathed in floods of living fire. 
But not a setting beam could glow 
Within the dark ravines below. 
Where twin'd the path in shadow hid. 
Round many a rocky pyramid. 
Shooting abruptly from the dell 
£ts thunder-splintered pinnacle ; 
Round many an insulated mass, 
The native bulwarks of the pass. 



16 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 1 

Hu^e as the tower which builders vain 

Presumptuous jiiled on Shiaar s plain. 

Their rocky suiiunits, spht and rent, 

Formed turrot, dome, or battlement. 

Or seemed fantastically set 

With cupola or minaret, 

Wild crests as payed ever decked 

Or mosque of eastern architect. 

Nor were these earth-born castles bare. 

Nor lacked they mau)^ a banner fair ; 

For, from tlieir shivered brows displayed 

Far o'er the imfalliomable glade, 

All twinklii.g with the dew drop sheen. 

The brier-rose fell in streamers ijreen, 

And creepinu slirubs of thousand dies, 

Waved in the west-wind's summer sighs 

XU. 

Boon nature scattered, free and wild, 
Each plant or rtower, the mountain's cliiid 
Here eglantine embalmed the air, 
Flawthorn and haze! mingled ^here ; 
The primrose ])ale, and violet flower, 
Found in each cleft a narrow bower ; 
Fox-glove and aurht-shado, side by side. 
Emblems of punishment and pride. 
Grouped their dark hues with every stain. 
The v/eather-beaten crags retain ; 
With boughs that quaked at every breatli. 
Gray birch and aspiu wept beneath; 
Aloft, the ash and warrior oak 
Cast anclior in the rifted rock ; 
And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung 
His shattered trunk, and t>equent fiung, 
Where seemed the cliifs to meet on high, * 
His boug;hs athwart the narrowed sky. 
Hiohest of all, where white peaks glanced. 
Where glistening streamers waved and danced 
The wanderer's eye could barely view 
The sunnner heaven's delicious blue, 



Canto I. THE CHASE. |, 

So wondrous wUd, the whole might seem 
The scenery of a fairy dream. 

xm. 

Onward, amid the copse 'gan peep 
A narrow inlet still and deep, 
Affording scarce such breadth of brim. 
As served the wild-duck's brood to swim •- 
I^ost for a space, tlirough thickets veering. 
But broader when again appearing. 
Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face 
Could on the dark-blue mirror trace ; 
And further as the hunter strayed, ■ 
Still broader sweep its channels made. 
The shaggy mounds no longer stood. 
Emerging from entangled wood. 
But, wa^e-encircled seemed to iloaU 
Like castle girdled with its moat ; 
Yet broader floods extending still. 
Divide Uiem from their parent hill. 
Till each, retiring, claims to be 
An islet in an inland sea. 

XIV 

And now, to issue from the glen. 

No pathway meets the wanderer's kei 

Unless he climb, with footing nice, 

A far projecting precipice. 

The broom's tougli roots his ladder a.doo. 

The hazel saplings lent their aid; 

And thus an airy point he won, 

Where, gleaming with the settuig sun. 

One burnish'* sheet of living gold, 

Loch-Katrine lay beneath luni rolled, 

[n all her length far winding lay, 

With promontory, creek, and bay. 

And islands that, empurpled bright, 

Floated amid the livelier hght ; 

And mountains, that like giants stand 

To sentinel enchanted land. 



18 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto ! 

High on the south, hnsc Benvenue 

Down to th« lake in masses threw 

Oags, lu)oIls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, 

Phe frag-nicnts (>f an earlier world ; 

A wildohnfr forest feathered o'er 

His ruined sides and surninit hoar. 

While on the north, throuirh nuddlc air, 

Ben-dn heaved high his ibreiicad bare. 

XV. 

From the steep promontory gazed 

The stranoer, jaj>tured and amazed. 

And, " What a scone were here," he cried. 

'' For pnnrely potnpor dnirchman's pndo 

On this bold brow, a lordly towei- ; 

In that suit vale, a lady's bovver; 

On yonder meadow, far away, 

The turrets of a cloister frray ; 

I?ow blithely mi<^ht the lm^4e horn 

Chide, on the lake, the biiiK'ririir mom ' 

Mow sweet, at eve. the lover's lute 

Chime, when the groves were still and muiy 

And, when the midnight moon did lavo 

Her forehead in the silver wave, 

How solemn on the ear would come 

The holy matin's distant hum, 

Willie the deep poaFs commanding tone 

Should wake, in y.mder islet lone, 

A sainted iiermif from his cell. 

To drf)p a bead with every knnll — 

And bugle, lute, and bell, and all, 

T'liould each bewildered stranger call 

To friendly feast, and lighted hail. 

XVL 

■^ Blithe were it then to wander here ! 
IJut now, — beslirew yoti nimble dee.-,— 
Like that same hermits, thin and spare. 
The copse must give my evening fare; 



Canto 1 THE CHASE. 19 

Some mossy bank my coucli must be, 
Some rustling oak my canopy. 
Vet pass we that ;— the war and chase 
Give little choice of resting-place ; — 
A summer niglit, in green-wood spent, 
Were but to-morrow's merriment ; — 
But hosts may in these wilds abound. 
Such as are better missed than found ; 
To meet with highland plunderers here 
Were worse than loss of steed or deer.— 
I am alone ; — my bugle strain 
May call some straggler of the tram ; 
Or fall the worst that may betide, 
Ere now this falchion has been tried." 

XVII. 

But scarce again his horn he wound. 

When lo ! forth starting at the sound, 

From underneath an aged oak, 

That slanted from the islet rock, 

A Damsel guider of its way, 

A little skift' shot to the bay. 

That round the promontory steep 

Led its deep line in graceful sweep, 

Eddying, in almost viewless wave. 

The weeping willow twig to lave. 

And kiss, with whispering sound and slow. 

The beach of pebbles bright as snow. 

The boat had touched the silver strand, 
Just as the hunter left his stand, 

And stood concealed amid the brake 

To view this Lady of the Lake. 

The maiden paused, as if again 

She thought to catch the distant strain. 

With head up-raised, and look intent, 

\nd eye and ear attentive bent, 

And locks flung back, and lips apart, 

^ike monument of Grecian art. 

in listening mood she seemed to stand. 

The jiruardian Naiad of the strand. 



Canto I. LADY OF THE LAKE 20 

xvm. 

And ne'er did Greciaji cliisol trace 

A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, 

Of finer form, or lovelier face ! 

What though the sun, with ardent frown, 

Had slightly tinged her check with brown. — 

The sportive toil, which, short and light. 

Had died her glowing hue &o bright, 

Served too in hastier swell to show 

Short ghmpses of a breast of snow; 

What though no rule of courtly grace 

To measured mood had trained her pace,— 

A foot more light, a step more true, 

Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew; 

E'en the slight hare-bell raised its head. 

Elastic from her airy tread: 

What though upon her speech there hung 

The accents of the mountain tongue,— 

Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear. 

The listener held his breath to hear 

XIX. 

A chieftain's daughter seemed the maid, 
Her satin snood, her silken plvid. 
Her golden broach, such birtli betrayed. 
And seldom was a snood amid 
Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid. 
Whose glossy black to shame might brinj 
The plumage of the raven's wing ; 
Andj-eldom o'er a breast so fair 
Mantied a plaid with modest care; 
And nuver broach the folds combined 
Above a heart more good and kind. 
Her kindness and her worth to spy. 
You need but gaze on Ellen's eye ; 
Not Katrine, in her mirror blue. 
Gives back tjie shaggy banks more true, 
Than every free-born glance confessed 
The guileless movements of her breast » 



Canto 1. THE CHASE. 9! 

Wiiether joy danced in her dark eye. 

Or wo or pity claimed a sigh, 

Or filial love was jjlowirtjr there, 

Or meek devotion poured a prayer. 

Or tale of injury called forth 

The indignant spirit of the north. 

One only passion, unrevealcd, 

With maideu pride tiio maid concealed. 

Yet not less purely felt the tlame; — 

O need I tell that passion's name ! 

XX. 

Impatient of the silent horn, 

Now on the gale her voice was borne : — * 

^ Father !" she cried ; the rocks around 

Loved to prolong the gentle sound. 

A v/hile she paused, no answer came,— 

" Malcolm, was thine the blast?" The name 

Less resolutely uttered fell. 

The echoes could not catch the swell. 

" A stranger, I," the Huntsman said, 

Advancing from the hazel shade. 

The maid alarmed, with liasty oar, 

Pushed her light shallop from the shore; 

And when a space was gained between, 

Closer she drew her bosom's screen*, 

(So forth the startled swan would swing, 

So turn to prune his ruffled wing.) 

Then safe, though fluttered and amazed. 

She paused, and on the stranger gazed. 

Not his the form, nor his tlio eye. 

That youthful maidens wont to fly. 

XXL 

On his bold visage, middle ago 
Had slightly pressed its signet sage, 
yet had not 'juenched the open truth. 
And fiery vehemence of youth ; 
Forward and frolic glee was there, 
The will to do. the soul to dare. 



'22 THE CHASE. Canto 1. 

The sparkling glanco, soon blown to fire» 

Of hasty love, or headloHg- ire. 

His limbs wero cast in manly mould, 

For hardy sports, or contest bold ; 

And thouglj in peaceful garb arrayed. 

And weaponless, except his blade, 

His stately mien as well implied 

A hii>]i-boni heart, a martial pride, 

As if a baron's crest lie wore, 

And sheathed in armour trod the shore. 

Slifrhting tiie petty need he showed. 

He told of ills bcniirliled road. 

His ready speecii tluwed fair and free, 

In phrase of gentlest courtesy, 

Vet seemed that tone, and gesture bland: 

Less used to sue than to command. 

XXII. 

A while the maid the stranger eyed, 
And, reassured, at last replied, 
That highland halls were open still 
To wildered wanderers of the hill. 
''Nor think you unexpected come 
To yon lone isle, our desert home : 
Before the heath liad lost the dew, 
This morn a couch was pulled for you; 
On yonder mountain''s purple head 
Have ptarmigan and heath-cock bled. 
And our broad nets have swe])t the more, 
To furrnsh forth your evening cheer." 
** Now, by the rood, my lovely maid, 
Your courtesy has erred,'"' ho said ; 
" No right have I to claim, misplaced. 
The welcome of expected guest. 
A wanderer here, by fortune tost, 
My way, my friends, my courser lost, 
I ne'er before, believe me, fair. 
Have ever drawn your mountain air. 
Till on this lake's romantic strand, 
I foujid a fay in fairy land." 



Canto I. THE CHASF 83 

•■ 'i well believe," the maid mplied. 
As her li^lil skitf approach(!d ilie side, 
'* I well bolicvo, that rie"er beiore 
Vour foot has trod Loch- Katrine's shore. 
But yet, as far as yesternioiit, 
Old Allan-bane foretold yc-vir plis'ht,— 
A gray-hairod sire, whof^o eye iiitent 
Was on the visioned fuiuro bent. 
Ho saw vour steed, a dajtph'd i^ray, 
Lie dead beneath the birchen way ; 
Painted exact your form and nnen, 
Your hunting suit of Lincoln oreen. 
That tasseird horn so g"ayly ifi't, 
That falchion's crooked bhide and hilt, 
That cap with heron's pimiiiiL'^e irini. 
And yon two hounds so dark and i/rim. 
He bade that all should ready be. 
To ffrace a truesl of fair degree; 
But liiiht 1 held his prophecy. 
And deemed it was my faUmr's horn. 
Whoso echoes o'er the lake were borne." 

XXIV. 

The stranger smiled : — " since to your 'lome, 

A destined errant knitrht I come. 

Announced by propiiel soolli and old, 

Doomed, doubdess. for achicvonitijil bold, 

rU lij^hlly front each hiiHi enipn/e, 

For one kind (glance of thon; bri^hi eyes; 

I'ermit me, first, the task to yuido 

Your fairy frigate oer the tide." 

T.'-e maid, with smile suppressed and sly 

The toil unwonted saw hiin try ; 

For seldom, sun;, if e er before. 

His noble hand iiad yra.sped an oar' 

Yet with main strenirlb Ins ^lrok«■s lie drew, 

And o er ihe lake the shalloj) tlew ; 

With hirads erect, and wbinip«!rmg cry, 

The hounds behind their passage ply- 



24 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto j 

Nor frequent does the bright oar break 
The darkening mirror of llie lake. 
Until the rocky isle they reach, 
And moor their shallop on the beach. 

XXV. 

The stranf^or viewed the shore around ; 
'Twas all so close with copse-wood bound, 
Kor track nor pathway might declare 
That human foot iVequented there, 
Until the mountain-maiden showed 
A clambering unsuspected road, 
That winded through the tangled screen. 
And opened on a narrow green, 
Where weeping bircli and willow round 
With their long iibres swept the ground; 
Here, for retreat in dangerous hour. 
Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 

XXVL 

It was a lodge of ample size. 

But strange of structure and device ; 

Of such materials, as around 

The workman's hand had readiest found. 

Lopped \i[ tiieir boughs, their hoar ti-unka bared, 

And by the hatchet rudely squared. 

To give the walls their destined height. 

The sturdy oak and ash unite; 

While moss and clay and leaves combined 

To fence each crevict^ from the wind. 

The lighter pine-trees, over-head 

Their slender length fur rafters spread ; 

And withered heath and rushes dry 

Supplied a russet canopy. 

Due westv.'ard, fronting to the green, 

A rural portico was seen, 

Alufl on native pillars borne. 

Of mountain fir with bark unshorn. 

Where EUeirs hand had taught to twine 

The ivy and Idiean vine. 



Canto I. THE CHASE. 

The clematis, the favoured flower, 
■Which boasts the name of virsriri-bower; 
Antl every hardy plant could brar 
Loch Katrine's keen and scarcliing air. 
An instant in this porch she staid, 
And ^ayly to the stran<rcr said, 
"On heaven and on thy lady call, 
And enter the enchanted hall." 

XXVIT. 

" Mj hope, my neaven, niy trust must bo, 

Wy srontle <(uide, in following thee." 

He crossed the tlireshold — and a clang 

Of anirry steel that instant ransj. 

To Ids bold brow his spirit rushed : 

But soon for vain alarm he bliisb.cd, 

When on the floor he saw displayed, 

Cause of the din, a naked blade 

Dropped from the sheath, that careless fluryf. 

Upon a stair's huiie antiora swung; 

For all around, tiio walls to grace. 

Hung tropliiec, of tlic figiil or chase : 

A tarijet there, a bugle here, 

A halile-axe, a huniing spear, 

And bri>ad-sw<»rds. bows, and arrows store. 

Willi the tusked trophies of liie boar. 

Here grins the wolf as wlien he died; 

And there the wild-cat's brnKllod hide 

The frontlet of the elk adf)rns, 

Or mantlts oVr the liison's horns : 

Pennons and flags defaced and stained. 

That blackening streaks of blood reiained. 

And deer-sKij\s, dappled, dun. and wiiito. 

With oiler's fur and seal's unite, 

In rude and uncouth tapestry all 

To ganiisli forth the sylvan hall. 

XXVIII. 

riiP wtir.dering siranger round him gazco 
Aud next the fallen weapon raised ; 



26 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto I. 

Few were the arms whose sinewy strength 

Sufficed to stretcli it forth at Ifnytb. 

And as the brand lie pois<.'d and swayed, 

^ 1 never know but one/' hf yatd, 

'* Whose stalwart ann niioht brook to wield 

A blade like this in battle field.'" 

She sig-lied, then smiled, and took the word j 

" You see the guardian dianipion's sword : 

As light it irembhvs in iii.s hand, 

As in my g^rasp a hazel wand. 

My sire's tall form migiii grace the part 

Of Ferragus. or Aseabart; 

But in the absent giant's hold 

Arc women now. and menials old." 

XXIX. 

The mistress of the mansion came, 
Mature of age, a graeeful dame ; 
Whose eah-y step and stately port , 
Had well b(!(.oine a |)riiicely court, 
To whom, thouoh more than kindred knew 
Young Klien gave a mother's due. 
Meet welcome to her guest she made. 
And every courteous rite was paid. 
That hos]>itality could claim, 
Though all uiuisked his birth and name. 
Such then the reverence to a guest. 
That fellest foe mig.it join the feast, 
And from his deadiicht foenian's dooi 
Unquestioned turn, the banquet o'er. 
4t length his rank the stranger names 
, The knight of Stiowdoun, James Fitz-Jamee 
Lord of a barren heritage. 
Which his brave sires, from age to age. 
By their good swords had held with toil^ 
His sire had fallen m such turmoil. 
And he, God wot, was forced to stand. 
Oft for his riolit witii l>lade in hand. '^ 
This mormng vv'ith ».<ird Moray s iraiji 
Be chased a stalwart stag ui vain. 



Canto I. THE CHASE. 21 

Ou (Stripped his comrades, missed the deei 
Lost his good steed, and wandered here." 

XXX. 

Fain would the knight in turn require 
Tlie name and stale of Ellen s sire : 
Well showed ihc elder lady's mien, 
f hat courts and cities she had seen ; 
jlien, though more her looks displayed 
riie simple grace of sylvan maid, 
fii speech and gesture, form and face, 
Showed she was come uf gentle race : 
'Twero strange in ruder rank to find 
Such looks, such manners, and such miua. 
Each hmt the Knight of Snowdoun gave, 
Dame INIargaret heard with silence grave , 
Or Ellen, iimocenlly gay, 
Turned all inquiry light away. 
" VVicrd women we ! by dale and down, 
We dwell afar from tower and tov^^^. 
We stem ihe tlood, we ride the blast, 
On wandering knights our spells we casi ; 
While viewless minstrels touch the string, 
'Tis thus our cluirmed rhymes we sing." 
She sung, and still a harp unseen 
Filled up tlio symphony between. 

XXXI. 

SONG. 

oldicr, rest ! thy warfare o'er. 

Sleep the sleep that knows not breakini 
Dream of battled fields no more. 

Days of danger, nights of waking. 
In our isle's enchanted hall, 

Hands unseen thy couch are strewing. 
Fairy strains of music fall, 

Every sense in slumber dewing. 



as LADY OF THE LAKE> Canto i. 

Soldier, rest ! lliy warfare o'er, 
Dream of fioJitui-y fields no more; 
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, 
Morn of toil, nor niglit of vvakiijg. 

No rude sound sliall reach thine ear, 

Armour's clanif, nor war-steed champing, 
Trump nor pihroch summon hero 

Mustering clan, nor squadron tramping. 
Yet the lark's shrill life luay come 

At the daybreak from the fallow, 
And the bittern sound his drum, 

Booming from the sedo^y shallow. 
Ruder sounds shall none be near. 
Guards nor warders challenire iicrc, 
Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing 
Shouthig clans or squadrons stamping. 

XXXII. 

She paused — then, blushing, led the lay 
To grace the stranger of the day ; 
Her mellow notes a while prolong 
Tho cadence of the flowing song. 
Till to her lips in measured frame 
The minstrel verse spontaneous came. 

SONG COiNTINUED. 

Huntsman, rest I thy chase is done. 

While our slumo'rous spells assail yc. 
Dream not with the rising sun, 

Bugles here shall sound reveillic. 
Sleep I tlie deer is in his den ; 

Sleep ; thy hounds are by thee lying. 
Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen, 

How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done. 
Think not of the rising sun, 
For at dawning to assail ye. 
Here no bugles sound rcveillie. 



Canto I. 'THE CHASE. U3 

XXXIII. 

The hall was cleared — tlie stranger''s bed 

Was there of niounlain heather spread. 

Where oft a hundred guests had lain. 

And drean>ed their forest sports again. 

But vainly did the heath-flower shed 

[ts moorland fragrance round his head ; 

Not Ellen's spell had lulled lo rest 

The fever of his troubled breast ; 

In broken dreams the image rose 

Of varied perils, pains, and woes, 

His steed now flounders in the brake, 

Now sniks his barge upon the lake ; 

Now leader of a broken host, 

His standard falls, his honour's lost. 

Then, — from my couch may heavenly might, 

Chase that worst phantom of the night I — 

Again returned the scenes of youth, 

Of confident undoubtin^ truth ; 

Again his soul he interchanged 

With friends whose hearts were long estranged. 

They come, in dim procession led, 

The cold, the faithless, and the dead : 

As warm each hand, each brow as gay. 

As if they parted yesterday. 

And doubt distracts him at the view, 

O were his senses false or true I 

Dreamed he of death, or broken vow, 

Or is it all a vision now I 

XXXIV. 

At length, with Ellen in a grove, 
He seemed to walk and speak of love. 
She listened with a blush and sigh. 
His suit was warm, his hopes wero high. 
He sought her yielded hand to clasp. 
And a cold gauntlet met his grasp : 
The phantom's sex was changed and gone, 
Upon its head a helmet shone ; 



30 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 

Slowly enlarged to giant size. 

With darkened cliecli and threatening eyes. 

The gristly visage, stern and hoar. 

To Ellen still a likeness bore. — 

He woke, and, panting with affright. 

Recalled the vision o{ the night ; 

The earth's decaving brands were red. 

And deep and dusky lustre shed, 

Half showing, half concealing all 

The uncouth trophies of the hall. • 

Mid those the stranger fixed his eye 

Where that huge falchion hung on high. 

And tlioughts on thoughts, a countless throng 

Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along. 

Until, the giddy whirl to cure, 

He rose, and sought the moonshine pure. 

XXXV. 

The wild rose, eglantine, and broom. 
Wasted around their rich perfume ; 
Tiie birch-trees wept in fragrant balm ; 
The aspens slept beneath the cahn ; 
The silver liglit, with quivering glance. 
Played on the water's still expanse ; 
Wild were the heart whose passion's swa> 
Could rage beneath the sober ray. 
He felt its calm, that warrior guest, 
While thus he communed with his breast : 
" Why is it at each turn I trace 
Some memory of that exiled race ? 
Can I not mountain-maiden spy, 
But she must bear the Douglas eye ? 
Can I not view a highland brand. 
But it must match the Douglas* hand? 
Can I not frame a fevered drearn, 
But still the Douglas is the theme .** — 
ni dream no more — by manly mind 
Not even in sleep is will resigned. 
iVIy midnight orison said o'er, 
I'll turn to rest, and (i^xiiaiia no more." 



Canto L THE CHASE. 

His midnight orison he told, 
A prayer with every beaid of gold, 
Consigned to heaven his cares aiid woea. 
And sunk in undistu-rbB<l repose ; 
Until the heath-cock shrilly crew. 
And morning dawned on Benvenue 



9MU OF CANTO fiAST 



THE 

LADY OF THE L-^Kfci. 

CANTO SECOND. 
THE ISLAND. 



AT morn the black-cock trims his jetty mr,^^ 
'Tis morninj? prompts the hnnet s bliir.e^i Ijiy > 

All nature's children feel the matin spring 
Of life reviving, with reviving day ; 

And while yon little bark glides' down the bay, 
VV^afting the stranger on his v. ay again. 

Morn's genial influence rouwid a minstrel gray, ^ 
And sweetly o'er the lake was lieard ihy strain, 
Mixed with the sounding harp, O white-haired 
Allan-bane ! 

n. 

SONG. 

Not faster yonder rowers' might 

Flings from their oars the spray. 
Not faster yonder rippling bright, 
That tracks Jo^ shallop's course in light. 

Melts in the lake away. 
Than men from memory erase 
The benefits of former days ; 
Then, stranger, go. good speed the wliilo^ 
Nor think ai-am oi the lonelv isle. 



34 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canio n 

High place to thee m royal court, 

High place in battle line, 
Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport. 
Where Beauty sees the brave resort, 

The honoured njeed be thine. 
True be thy sword, thy friend sincei* 
Thy lady constant, kind and dear, 
And lost in love's and friendship's smile. 
Be memory of the lonely isle. 

in. 

SONG CONTINUED. 

But if beneath von southern sky 

A plaided st. anger roam, 
Whose drocning crest and stifled sigh, 
And sunken cheek, and heavy eye, 

Pine for his highland home ; 
TJien, warrior, then be thine to show 
Tlie care that sooths a wanderer's wo; 
Remember then thy hap ere while 
A stranger in tlie lonely isle. 
Or if on life's uncertain main 

Mishap shall mar thy sail ; 
If faithful, wise, and brave in vam, 
Wo, want, and exile thou sustain 

Beneath the fickle gale ; 
Waste not a sigh on fortune changed. 
On thankless courts, or friends estranged, 
But come where kindred worth shall smile 
To greet thee in the lonely isle. 

IV. 

As died the sounds upon the tide, 
The shallop reached tlie main-land sid» 
Add ere his onward way he took, 
The stranger cast a lingering look. 
Where easily his eye might reach 
The harper on the islet beach, 
RecUned against a blighted tree, 
As wasted, gray, and worn as he. 



Cimio*!. THE ISLAND. S& 

To minstrel meditation given, 

Hii« reverend brow was raised to heaven. 

As from the rising sun to claim 

A sparkle of uispiriug flame ; 

His hand, reclined upon the wire, 

Seemed watching tiie awakening lire. 

So still he sate, as those who wait 

Till judgment speak the doom of tate ; 

So still, 'as if no breeze migiit dare 

To lift one lock of hoary hair ; 

So still, as hfe itself were fled, 

In the last sound his harp had sped 

V. 

Upon a rock with lichens wild, 
Beside him Ellen sat and smiled. 
Smiled she to see the stately drake 
Lead forth his fleet upon the lake, 
While her vexed spaniel, from tlie oeaco, 
Bayed at the prize beyond liis roach ; 
Yet tell me then the maid who knows. 
Why deepened on her cheek the rose ? — 
Forgive, forgive. Fidelity 1 
Perchance the maiden smiled to see 
Yon parting lingerer wave adieu. 
And stop and turn to wave anew ; 
And, lovely ladies, ere your ire 
Condemn the heroine of my lyre, 
Snow me die fair would scorn to spy 
And prize such conquest of her eye . 

VL 

While yet he loitered on the spot, 
[t seemed as Ellen marked him not , 
But when he turned him to the glade, 
One courteous parting sign she made; 
And after, oft that Knight would say 
That not when prize of festal day 
Was dealt him by the brightest fair, 
Wlio e'er wore jewel in her hair. 



86 LADY OF THE LAKE. Qaato R 

So highly did his bosom swell, 

As at that simple mute farowcll. 

Now with a trusty mouutiiin guide, 

And his dark stair-houuds by his side, 

He parts — the maid, unconscioas still, 

"Watched liim wind slowly round the hill; 

But when his stately fonn was hid, 

The guardian in her bosom chid — 

"Thy Malcolm I vain and selfish maid !" 

'Twas thus upbraiding conscience said, 

" Not f-o had xMalcolm 'idly hung 

On the smooth phrase of southern tongue; 

"Not so had Malcolm strained his eye 

The step of parting fair to spy." — 

*'Wake, Allan-bane," aloud slie cried 

To the old minstrel by her side, 

** Arouse thee from thy moody dream I 

ril give thy harp heroic theme, 

And warm thee with a nol)le name: 

Pour forth the glory ol' the Gri^^me." 

Scarce from her hp the word had rushed. 

When deep the <;ansciouJ? maiden blusiicd. 

For of his clan, in hall and hower, 

Yoimg Malcolm Graimc was held the flowe? 

Yll. 

The minstrel waked liis harp — tlirec times 
Acrotis the well-known riiartia! chimes, 
And thrice their higli heroic pride 
in melancholy rmu-murs died. 

^"■Vainly thou hidst, O nohle maid," 

Clasping his withered hands, he said. 
* Vainly thou bidst me wake the strain, 
Thongii all unwont to bid in vnin. 
Alas ! than n\Ine a migliticr hand 
Has tnned my harp, my strings has spannc<"5 
f touch the chords of joy, but low 
And mournful answer notes of wo ; 
And the proud march whiih victors tread- 
Sinks in the wailing for the dfi-Ad. — 



Canto II. THE ISLAND. 3? 

O well for me, if mine alone 

That dirge's deep prophetic tone ! 

If, as my tuneful fatliers said, 

This harp, which erst Saint Modan swayed. 

Can thus its master's fate foretell. 

Then welcome be the minstrel's knell I" 

VHI. 

But ah ! dear lady, thus it sighed 
The eve thy sainted mother died; 
And such the sounds which, while I strove 
To wake a lay of war or love, 
Came marrincf all the festal mirth, 
Appalling rnc who gave them birth. 
And, disobedient to'my call. 
Wailed loud through BoUiwell's bannered hali 
Ere Douglasses, to ruin driven. 
Were exiled from their native heaven. — 
Oh ! if yet worse mishap and wo 
My master's house must undergo. 
Or aught but weai 'o Ellen fair, 
Brood in these ace .its of despair, 
No future bard, s.^ harp 1 shall fling 
Triumph or rapiuTe from thy string ; 
One short, one final strain shall flow, 
Fraught with unutterable v/o, 
Then shivered shall thy fragments lie. 
Thy master cast him down and die.''- 

IX. 

Soothing she answered him, " Assu-..^, 

Mine honoured friend, the fears of uge ; 

All melodies to thee are kno%vn, 

That harp has rung, or pipe has blown. 

In lowland vale, or highland glen. 

From Tweed to Spey — what marvel, then* 

At times, unbidden notes should rise, 

Confusedly bound in memory's lies, 

Entangling, as they rush along, 

The war-march with the funeral sonjf.— 



38 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto Jl 

Small ground is now for boding fear ; 

Obscure, but safe, we rest us here. 

My sire, in native virtue great, 

Resigning lordship, lands, and state, 

Not then to fortune more resigned, 

Than yonder oak might give the wind ; 

The graceful foliage storms may reave. 

The noble stem they cannot grieve. 

For me," — she stopped, and, looking round 

Plucked a blue hare-bell from the ground, 

" For me, whose memory scarce conveys 

An image of more splendid days, 

This little flower, that loves tJie lea, 

May well my simple emblem be ; 

It drinks heaven's dew as blithe as rose 

That in the King's own garden growsi- 

And when I place it in my hair, 

Allan, a bard is bound to swear 

He ne'er saw coronet so fair." 

Then playfully the chaplet wild 

She wreathed in her dark locks, and smileif 

X. 

Her smile, her speech, with winning sway 
Wiled the old harper's mood away ; 
With such a look as hermits tlirow 
When angels stoop to sooth their wo. 
He gazed till fond regret and pride 
Thrilled to a tear, then thus replied • 
"Loveliest and best I thou little know'st 
The rank, the honours thou hast lost; 
O might 1 live to see ihee grace, 
In Scotland's court, thy birth right place, 
To see my favourite's sit-p advance, 
The lightest in the courtly dance. 
The cause of every gallant's sigh, 
And leading star of every eye. 
And theme of every minstrel's art. 
Tire Lady of the Bleeding Heart 1"+ 
t The well-known cognizance of the Douglas 



Canto n. THE ISLAND. 39 

XI. 

^ Gay dreams are these," the maiden cried 
(Light was her accent, yet she sighed,) 
" This mossy rock, my friend, to me 
fs wortii gay chair and canopy ; 
Nor would my footstep spring more gay 
In courtly dance than blitlie strathspey; 
Nor lialf so pleased mine ear incline 
To roval minstrel's lay as thine : 
And then for suiters proud and high. 
To bend before my conquering eye, 
Tliou, flattering bard, thyself wilt say. 
That g-\-ji Sir Roderick owns its sway. 
The Saxon scourge, Clan-Alpine's pride. 
The terror of Loch Lomond's side. 
Would, at my suit, thou know'st, delajr 
A Lennox foray — for a day." 

XIL 
The ancient bard his glee repressed : 
" 111 hast thou chosen theme for jest ! 
For who. through all this western wild, 
Named Black Sir Roderick e'er, and smiled ' 
in Holy Rood a knight he slew ; 
I saw, when back the dirk he drew. 
Courtiers give place before the stride 
Of the undaunted homicide ; 
And since, though outlawed, hath his hani 
VxiW aternly kept his mountain land. 
Who else dare give, — ah I wo the day. 
That I such hated truth should say — 
The Douglas, like a stricken deer, 
Disowned by every noble |>eer. 
Even the rude refuge we have here ? 
Alas, this wild marauding chief 
Alone might hazard our relief, 
And now thy maiden charms expand, 
Looks for his guerdon in thy hand; 
Full soon may dispensation sought, 
r<J back his suit, Ironj R«n>e bo brought. 



40 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto a 

Then, though an exile on iho hill, 
Tiiy father, as the Doughvs still, 
Be held in reverence and fear. 
But thougi) to Pvoderick thouVt so dear, 
Tliat thou might'st guide with silken thread. 
Slave of thy will, this cliicftain dread ; 
Yet, O loved maid, thy mirth rel'raini 
Thy hand is on a lion's mane." 

XIII. 

"Minstrel," the maid replied, and high 
Her fatlier's soul glanced in her eye, 
"My debts to Roderick's house 1 know: 
All that a motlier couUI bestow, 
To Lady Margaret's care I owe. 
Since first an orphan in the wild 
She sorrowed o'er her sister's child ; 
To her brave chieftain son, from ire 
Of Scotland's king, who shrouds my sire, 
A deeper, holier debt is owed ; 
Ami, could 1 pay it with my blood, 
Allan I Sir Roderick should command 
My blood, my life, — but not my hand. 
Rather will Ellen Douglas dwell 
A vot'ress in Maronna's cell; 
Rather through realms beyond the sea, 
Seeking the world's cold chanty, 
Where ne'er was spoke a Scottish word, 
And ne'er the name of Douglas heard. 
An outcast pilgrim will she rove, 
Than wed the man she cannot love. ^ 

XIV. 

•• Thou shakest, good friend, thy tresses gray 
That pleading look, what can it say 
But what I own r" — 1 graiit him brave, 
But wild as Bracklinn's thundering wave; 
And generous — save vindictive mood. 
Or jealous transport chafe his blood: 



Omto li. THE ISLAND. ^l 

I grant him true to friendly band. 

As his claymore is to his hand; 

But OI tf»at very blade of stew 

More mercy for a foe would foe! : 

I grant him liberal, to tling 

An>ong his ckn the v.calth they brmg. 

When back by lake ana ghen they wind, 

And in the lowland leave behind, 

Where once some pleasant hamlet stood, 

A mass of ashes slacked with blood. 

The hand, that for my father fought, 

I honour as his daughter ouglit; 

But can I clasp it reeking red, 

From peasants slaughtered in tlieir shed t 

No ! wildly while his virtues gleam, 

They make his passions darker seem. 

And flash along his spirit high. 

Like liglilning o'er the midnight sky. 

While yet a child, — and children know, 

(nstinctivo taught, Ihe friend and foe,— 

I shuddt;red at his brow of gloom. 

His shadowy plaid, and sable plume; 

A maiden grown, I ill could boar 

His haughty mien and lordly air ; 

But if thou join'st a suitor's claim, 

In serious mood, to Roderick's name, 

I thrill with anguish ! or, if e'er 

A Douglas knew the word, with fear. 

To change such odious theme were best, — 

What think'st thou of our stranger guost?* 

XV. 

** Wliat think I of him ?— wo the while 
That brought such wanderer to our isle ! 
Thy father's battle brand of yore 
For Tyncman forged by fairy lore, 
What time he leagued, no longer foes, 
His Border spears with Hotspur's bowa. 
Did, self-unscabbarded. foreshow 
The footstep of a secret foe. 



42 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto U. 

If courtly spy, and harboured here, 

What may we for the Douglas fear? 

What for this island ; deemed of old 

Clan-Alpine's last and surest hold? 

If neither spy nor foe, 1 pray 

What yet may jealous Roderick say ?- 

Nay, wave not tl\y disdainful head I 

Bethink thee of the discord dread, 

Tliat kindled when at Beltane gamo 

Thou led'st the dance with Malcolm Greeme; 

Still, thongh thy sire the peace renewed, 

Smoulders in Roderick's breast llie feud ; 

Beware 1 — But hark, what sounds are these ^ 

My dull ears catch no faltering breeze. 

No weeping birch, nor aspens wake, 

Nor breath is dimpling in the lake ; 

Still is the canna's"^ hoary beard — 

Yet, by my minstrel faith, 1 heard — 

And hark again ! some pipe of wax 

Sends the bold pibroch from afar." 

XVI. 

Far up the lengthened lake were spied 
Four darkening specks upon the tide, 
That, slow enlarging on the view. 
Four manned and masted barges grew, 
And bearing downwards from Glengyle, 
Steered full upon the lonely isle; 
The point of Brianchoil they passed. 
And to the windward as they cast. 
Against the sun they gave to shine. 
The bold Sir Roderick's bannered pine. 
Nearer and nearer as they bear. 
Spears, jiikes, and axes, flash in air. 
Now might you see the tartans brave, 
And plaids and plumage dance and wavci 
Now see the bonnets sink and rise, 
As his tougli oar the rower plies ; 

* Cotton-grass 



Canto TI. THE ISLAND. 43 

See, flashing' at each sturdy stroke, 

The wave ascending into smoke ; 

See the proud pipers on tJu) bow, 

And mark the gaudy streamers flow 

From their loud chaiitera* down, and sweep 

The furrowed bosom of the deep. 

As rushing through the lake, amain 

They pUed the ancient Highland strain. 

XVII. 

Ever, as on they bore, more loud 
And louder rung the pibroch proud. 
At first the sounds, by distance lame, 
Mellowed along the waters came. 
And, lingering long by cape and bay 
Wailed every harsher note away ; 
Then, bursting bolder on the ear. 
The clan's shrill Gathering they could hear 
Those tlniUlng sounds, that call the might 
Of old Clan- Alpine to the fight : 
Thick beat the rapid notes, as when 
The mustering hundreds shake the glen, 
iVnd hurrying at the signal dread, 
The battered earth returns their tread ; 
Then prelude light, of livelier tone, 
Expressed their merry marching on, 
E'er peal of closing battle rose, 
With mingled outcry, shrieks, and blows; 
And mimic din of stroke and ward, 
As broad-sword upon target jarred ; 
And groaning pause, e'er yet again, 
Condensed, the batlle yelled amain ; 
The rapid charge, the rallying shout. 
Retreat borne headlong into rout ; 
And bursts of triumph, to declare 
Clan- Alpine's concjuest — all were there. 
Nor ended thus the strain ; but slow, 
Sunk in a moan prolonged and low, 

* Tbe drone of the bag-pipe. 



44 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 11 

And changed the conquering clarion swell. 
For wild lament o'er those that fell. 

XVIIL 

The war-pipes ceased ; but lake and hiU 
Were busy with tlieir echoes still. 
And when they slept, a vocal strain 
Bade their hoarse chorus wake again, 
While load a hundred clansmen raise 
Their voices in their chieftaln''s praise. 
Each boatman, bending to his oar, 
With measured sv/cep the burthen bore. 
In such wild cadence, as the breeze 
Makes through December's leafless trees 
The chorus first could Allan know, 
•' Roderigh Vich Alpine, ho 1 iro V 
And near, and nearer as they rowed, 
Distinct the martial ditty flowed. 

XIX. 
BOAT SONG. 

Hail to the chief who in triumph advances, 

Honoured and blessed be the ever-green pine • 
Long may the tree in his banner that glances. 
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! 

Heaven send it happy dew, . 

Earth lend it sap anew, 
Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow, 

While every highland glen 

Sends our shouts back agen, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dim, ho 1 ieroe !" 

Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, 

Blooming at BeKane, in winter to f=ide ; 
When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the 

moutitam, 
The more shall Clan- Alpine exult in her shade. 
Moored in the rifled rock. 
Proof to ino- tempest's shock. 



Caiito IL THE ISLAND. 45 

Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; 

Menteith and BrcadalbaKC, then, 

Echo his praise ag-en, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe !" 

XX. 

Proudly our pibroch lias thrilled in fflcn Fruin, 

And Banochar''s groans to our slogan replied ; 
Glen Ross and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in rum, 
And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her 
side. 
Widow and Saxon maid 
Long shall lament our raid, 
Think of Clan- Alpine with fear and with wo : 
Lennox and Leven-glen 
Shake when Uiey hear agen, 
' R,oderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe f 

Row vassals, row, for the pride of the highland's 1 

Stretch to your oars, for the ever-green pine -' 
O ! that the rose-bud tliat graces yon islands. 
Were wrcatlied in a garland around him to 
twine I 
O that some seedling gem, 
Worthy such noble stem. 
Honoured and blessed in their shadow might grci-v * 
• Loud should Clan- Alpine then" 

Ring from her deepmost glei:, 
•^ Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe !" 

XXT. 

With all her joyful female band 
Had Lady Margaret sought the strand. 
Loose on the bree/e their tresses flew, 
And high their snowy arms they threw. 
As echoing back vvitli shrill acclaim. 
And chorus wild, the chieftain's name; 
While, prompt to please, with mother's ert, 
The darling passion of his heart. 



46 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto U 

The Da:ne called Ellen to the strand, 

To greet her kinsman ere he land : 

" Come, loiterer, come ! a Douglas thou, 

And shun to wreathe a victor's brow?" 

Reluctantly and slow, the maid 

The unwelcome summoning obeyed. 

And, when a distant bugle rung, 

In the mid-path aside she sprung : — 

" List, Allan-bane ! P^rom mainland cast, 

I hear my father''s signal blast. 

Be o'lrs," she cried, "• tlie skiff to guide, 

And waft him from the mountain side." 

Then, like a sunbeam, swift and bright, 

She darted to her shallop light. 

And, eagerly while Roderick scanned, 

For her dear form, his mother's band. 

The islet far behind her lay, 

And she had landed in the bay. 

XXII. 

Some feelings are to mortals given. 

With less of earth in them than heaven , 

And if there be a human teat 

From passion's dross refined and clear, 

A tear so limpid and so meek, 

It would not stain an aiigeFs clieek, . 

'Tis that which pious fathers shed 

Upon a duteous daughter's head ! 

And as the Douglas to his breast 

His darling Ellen closely pressed, 

Such holy drops lier tresses sieep'd. 

Though 'twas a hero's eye that weep'd. 

Nor vrhile on Ellen's faltering tongue 

Her filial welcomes crowded hung. 

Marked she, that fear (affection's proof,) 

Still hekl a graceful youth aloof; 

No I not till Douglas named his name, 

Although the youth was Malcolm Graem*- 



Canto II. THE ISLAND. 47 

XXIII. 

Allan, with wistful look the while, 

Marked Roderick landing on the isle ; 

His master piteously lie eyed, 

Tlien gazed upon the chieftain's pride. 

Then dashed, with hasty hand, away, 

From his dimmed eye the gathering fpray; 

And Douglas, as his hand he laid 

On Malcolm's shoulder, kindly said, 

•' Canst thou, young friend, no moaning spy 

In my poor follower's glistening eye f 

I'll tell thee : — he recalls the day, 

When in my praise he led the lay 

O'er the arched gate of Bothwoll proud, 

While many a minstrel answered loud. 

When Percy's Norman pennon, won 

In bloody field, before me shone. 

And twice ten knights, the least a name 

As mighty as yon chief may claim. 

Gracing my pomp, behind me came. 

Yet trust me, Malcolm, not so proud 

Was I of all that marshal crowd. 

Though the waned crescent owned my might. 

And in my train trooped lord and knight. 

Though Blantyre hymned her holiest lays. 

And BothwelFs bards flung back my praise, 

As when this old man's silent tear, 

And this poor maid's affection dear, 

A welcome give more kmd and true, 

Than aught my better fortunes knew. 

Forgive, my friend, a father's boast ; 

O . it outbeggars all I lost !" 

- XXIV. 

Delightful praise! — like summer rose, 
'Hiat brighter in the dew-drop glows, 
The bashful maiden's cheek iipi)oared. 
For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard. 
The flush of shame-faced joy to hide, 
Thp hounds, the hawk, her cares divide; 



48 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 11 

The loved caresses of the maid 
The dogs willi crouch and whimper paid ; 
And, at her whistle, on her liand 
The falcon look his favourite stand, 
Closed his dark wing, relaxed his eye, 
Nor, though unhooded, sough.t to fly. 
And trust, while in sucli guise she stood, 
Like fabled Goddess of the Wood, 
That if a father's partial thouglit 
O'erv/cighcd her worth and beauty aught 
Well might the lover's judgment fail. 
To balance with a juster scale ; 
For with each secret glance ht stole, 
The fond enthusiast sent his soul. 

XXV. 

Of stature fair, and slender frame. 

But firmly kiiit, was Malcolm GrtBme. 

The belted plaid and tartan hose 

Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose ; 

His flaxen hair, of sunny hue, 

Curled closely round his bonnet blue ; 

Trained to the chase, his eagle eye 

Tiie ptarmigan in snow could spy ; 

Each pass, by mountain, lake, and heath, 

He knew, through Lennox and Menteith ; 

V^ain was the bound of dark-brown doe, 

Wiien Malcolm bent his sounding bow. 

And scarce that doe, though wmged with fear 

Outstripped in speed the mountaineer ; 

Right up Ben-Lomond could he press. 

And not a sob his toil confess. 

His form accorded with a mind 

Lively and ardent, frank and kind ; 

A blither heart, till Ellen came, - 

Did never love nor sorrow tame ; 

It danced as liglitsome in his breast, 

As played Ulie feather on his crest. 

Yet frlrnds, who nearest knew the youth. 

His n'i'jtsi of wrong, his zeal f<»r truth. 



Canto II. THE ISLAND. 

And hards, who saw his features bold. 
\Vhen kiiidled by the tales of old, 
Said, were thai youth to manhood grown^ 
Not lonor should Rcderick Dhu's renown 
Be foremost voiced by mountain fame, 
But quail to that of Malcolm Greeme. 

XXVI. 

Now back they wer.d their watery way, 
And, "• O my sire !'' did Ellen say, 
" Why urge thy chace so far astray? 
And why so late returned? And why"— 
The rec^t was in her speaking eye. 
" My child, the chase I follow far, 
"Tis mimicry of noble war; * 

And with that gallant pastime reft 
Were all of Douglas I have lefl. 
I met young Malcolm as i strayed 
Far eastward m Glenfinlas' shade 
Nor strayed I safe ; for, all around, 
Hunters and horsemen scoured the ground 
This youth, tiiough still a royal ward, 
Risked life and land to be my guard, 
And through the passes of the wood 
Guided my steps, not unpursued ; 
And Roderick shall his welcome make, 
Desr te old spleen, for Douglas'' sake. 
Then nmst he seek Strath Endrick glen, 
D' )r peril aught for mc agen." — 

XXVII. 

Sir RodericK, wno to meet them came, 
Rc-ddoned at sight of Malcolm Grcemo^ 
Yet, nor in action, word, or eye. 
Failed aught in hospitality. 
In tall'v and sport they whiled away 
The morning of that summer day; 
But at high noon a courier light 
Held secret parley with the knight. 



50 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto U 

Whose moody aspect soon declared, 
That evil were the news he heard. 
Deep thought seehied toiling in his head ; 
Yot was the evening banquet made. 
E'er he assembled round the flame, 
His mother, Douglas, and tlie GrEemo, 
And Ellen too ; then cast around 
His eyes, then fixed them on the ground, 
As studying phrase that might avail 
Best to convey unpleasant tale. 
Long with his dagger's hilt he played, 
Then raised his haughty brow, and said : 

XXVIIL 

" Short be my speech ; — nor time affords. 

Nor my plain temper, glozmg words. 

Kinsman and father, if such name 

Douglas vouchsafe to Roderick's claim, 

Mine honoured mother, Ellen, — why. 

My cousin, turn away thine eye .'' 

Vnd Grffime, in whom I hope to know 

Pull soon a noble friend or foe, 

^Vhen age shall give thee thy command. 

And leading in thy native land, — 

List all I — The king's vindictive pride 

Boasts to have tamed the Border-side, 

Where chiek', with hound and hawk who cam.6 

To share thoir monarch's sylvan game. 

Themselves in bloody toils were snared. 

And when the banquet they prepared, 

And wide tiieir loyal portals flung, 

O'er their uwn gateway struggling hung. 

Loud cries their blood from Moggat's mead 

From Yarrow braes, and banks of Tweed, 

Where thi2 lone streams of Ettricke glide, 

And from the silver Teviot's side ; 

The dales, where martial clans did ride, 

Are now one sheep-v/alk waste and wide. 

This tyrant of the Scottish throne, 

So faithless, and so rulhlos« grown, 



Cairto n. THE ISLAND. Si 

Now hither comes ; his end the same, 

The same pretext of sylvan game. 

What grace lor Highland chiefs judge yo. 

By fate of Border chivalry. 

Yet more ; amid Glenfinlas' green, 

Douglas, thy stately form was seen. 

This°by espial sure I know : 

Your counsel in the strait I show." — 

XXIX. 

Ellen and Margaret fearfully 
Sought comfort in each other s eye, 
Then turned their ghastly look, each one, 
This to her sire, that to her son. 
The hasty colour went and came 
.n the bold cheek of Malcolm Grseme; 
But from his glance, it well appeared, 
'Twas but for Ellen that he feared ; 
While sorrowful, but undismayed, 
The Douglas thus his counsel said : 
<- Brave Roderick, though the tempest roar, 
It may but thunder and pass o'er; 
Nor will I here remain an hour. 
To draw the lightning on thy bower; 
For well thou know'st, at this gray head 

The royal bolt were fiercest spcd- 
For thee, who, at thy King's command, 
Canst aid him with a gallant band, 
Submission, homage, humbled pride, 
Shall turn the monarch's wrath aside. 

Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart, 

Ellen and I, will seek, apart, 

The reftjge of som.e forest cell ; 

There, like the hunted quarry, dwell. 

Till, on the mountain and the moor, 

f he stern pursuit be passed and o'er."— 

XXX. 

- No, by mine honour," RodericK said, 
^ So hein me heavjn. and my good blado '. 



ta LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 1) 

No, never I Blasted be yon pine, 
My fa.tlier"s ancient crest, and mine, 
If fiuin its sliade in danger part 
Tlic lineage oi' the Bleeding IJeart! 
Hear my blunt speech : grant nie this maid 
To wile, thy counsel to mine aid ; 
To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dim, 
Will ihends and allies flock enow ; 
Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief. 
Will bind us to each western chief. 
W'iien the loud pipes my bridal tell, 
TJie Links of Forth shall hear the knell, 
The guard shall start in Siirhng''s porch-; 
And when 1 light the nuptial torch, 
A thousand villages in flames, 
Siiail scare the slumber of King James I 
—Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away, 
And, mother, cease these signs, 1 pray ; 
1 meant not all my heat might say. 
Small need of inroad, or of fight. 
When the sage Douglas may unite 
Each mountain clan in friendly band, 
To guard the passes of their land, 
Till the foiled King, from pathless glen. 
Shall bootless turn him home agen." — 



XXXL 

There are who have, at midnight hour. 
In slumber scaled a dizzy tower. 
And, on the verge that beetled o'er 
The ocean-tide's incessant roar. 
Dreamed calmly out thei?r dangerous dream 
Till wakened by the morning beam; 
■When, dazzled by the eastern glow, 
Such startler cast his glance below. 
And saw unmeasured depth around. 
And heard unmtermitted sound, 
And thought the battled fence so fraiL 
U waved like cobweb in the gale; 



Canto II. THE ISLAND. 53 

Amid his senses' giddy wheel, 

Did he not desperate impulse feel, 

Headlong to plunge himself below, 

And meet the worst his fears foreshow ?— 

Thus, Ellen, dizzy and astound, 

As sudden ruin yawned around, 

By crossing terrors wildly tossed, 

Still for the Douglas fearing most, 

Could scarce the desperate thought withstand. 

To buy his safety with her hand. 

XXXII. 

Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy 
In Ellen's quivering lip and eye. 
And eager rose to speaJi — but e'er 
His tongue could hurry forth his fear. 
Had Douglas marked the hectic strife, 
Where death seemed combating witli life. 
For to her cheek, in feverish flood. 
One instaijt rushed the throbbing blood. 
Then ebbing back, with sudden sway. 
Left its domain as wan as clay. 
" Roderick, enough I enough !" he cried, 
"My daughter caimot be thy bride ; 
Not that the blush to wooer dear. 
Nor paleness that of maiden fear. 
It may not be — forgive her, chief, 
Nor hazard aught mr our relief. 
Against his sovereign, Douglas ne'er 
Will level a rebellious spear; 
'Twas I that taught his youthful hand 
To rein a steed and wield a brand. 
I see him yet, the princely boy ! 
Not Ellen more my pride and joy ; 
I love him still, despite my wrongs. 
By hasty wrath, and slanderous tongues. 
Oseek the grace yon well may fmd, 
VVithout a cause to mine combined." — 



54 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IL 

XXXIIL 

Twice through the hall the Cliieftain strode ; 
The waving of his tartans broad, 
And darkened lirow, wliere wounded pru'<' 
With ire and disappouitment vied, 
Seemed, by tlie torch's gloomy light, 
Like the ill Demon of the night, 
Stooping his pinions'" shadowy sway 
Upon the nighted pilgrim's way : 
But, unrequited love 1 thy dart 
Plunged deepest its envenomed smart; 
And Roderick, with thine anguish stung. 
At length the liaiid of Douglas wrung, 
While eyes, that mocked at tears before, 
With bitter drops were rumiing o'er. 
The death-pangs of long-chenshed hope 
Scarce in that ample breast had scope, 
But, struggUng with his spirit proud. 
Convulsive heaved its checkered shroud ; 
While eveiy sob — so mute were all- 
Was heard distinctly through the hall. 
The son's despair, the mother's look, 
111 might the gentle Ellen brook ; 
She rose, and to her side tiiere came. 
To aid her parting steps, the Grffime. 

XXXIV. 

Then Roderick from the Douglas broke — 

As flashes tlame through sable smoke. 

Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, and low. 

To one broad blaze of ruddy glow. 

So the deep anguish of despair 

Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air — 

With stalwart grasji his hand he laid 

On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid . 

" Back, beardless boy I" he sternly said, 

" Back, m.yiion ! hold'st thou thus at nough. 

The lesson 1 so lately taught r 

This roof, the Douglas, and tliat maid. 

Thank thou for punislmient delayed ' 



Canto II. THE ISLAND 55 

Eaffer as greyhound on his game. 

Fiercely with Roderick grappled Grfemo 

' Perish my name, if aught afford 

Us chieftain^s safety, save his sword I 

Thus as they strove, their desperate hand 

Griped to the dagger or the brand, 

And death had been— But Douglas rose, 

And thrust between the struggling foes 

His giant strength :— " Chieftains, forego. 

I hold the first who strikes my foe.— 

Madmen, forbear your frantic jar ! 

What! is the Douglas fahen so far, 

His daughter's hand is deemed the spoil 

Of such'dishonourable broil !" — 

Sullen and slowly, they unclasp, 

As struck with shame, their desperate grasp 

And each upon his rival glared. 

With foot advanced, and blade half bared. 

XXXV. 

Ere yet the brands aloft were flung, 
Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung, 
And^Malcolm heard his Ellen's scream, 
As faltered through terrific dream. 
Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword 
And veiled hia wrath in scornful word. 
•'Rest safe till morning; pity 'twere 
Such cheek should ieel the midnight air I 
Then mayest thou to James Stuart tell, 
Roderick will keep the lake and fell, 
Nor lackey, with his free-born clan. 
The pageant pomp of earthly man. 
More would he of CJan-Alpme know, . 
rhou canst our strength and passes show.— 
Malise , what ho 1"— his hench-man came ; 
'■ Give our safe conduct to the Grajme. 
Youno- Malcolm answered, calm and bold. 
"^ Fear nothing for thy favourite hold. 
The spot, an angel deignei* to grace. 
Is blessed, though robbers liaunt the place 



5G L.ADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 11. 

Thy churlisli courtesy for those 
Reserve, who fear to be thy foes. 
As safe to me tlie mountain way 
At niidniirlit as in blaze of day, 
Though, with his boldest at his back, 
Even Roderick Dhu beset the track.— 
Brave Douglas, — lovely Ellen, — Nay, 
Nouglit here of parting will I say. 
Earth does not hold a lonesome glen. 
So secret, but we meet agen. — 
Chieflam ! we too shall find an hour," 
He said, and 'eft the sylvan bower. 

XXXVI. 

Old Allan followed to the strand, 

(Such was the Douglas"'s command,) 

^nd anxious told, how, on the morn, 

The stern Sir Pioderick deep had sworn. 

The Fiery Cross should circle o'er 

Dale, glen, and valley, down, and moor 

Much were the peril to the Grseme, 

From those vvho to the signal came ; 

Far up the lake 'twere safest land 

Himself would row him to the strand. 

He gave his counsel to the wind, * 

While Malcolm did, unheeding, bind, 

Round dirk and pouch and broad-sword rolled 

His ample plaid in tightened fold, 

And stripped his limbs to such array, 

As best might suit the watery way. 

XXXVII. 

Then spoke abrupt ; " Farewell to thee. 
Pattern of old fidelity !" 
The minstrcrs hand he kindly pressed, — 
'' O could I point a place of rest ! 
My sovereign holds in ward my land. 
My uncle leads my vassal band ; 
To tame his toes, his friends to aid, 
Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade. 



Canto 11. THE ISLAJVD. 

Yet, if there be one faithful Grffime, 
Who loves the chieftain of his name, 
Not long shall honoured Douglas dwell. 
Like hunted stag, ni n)Ountain cell ; 
Nor, ere yon pride-swollen robber dare, — 
1 may not give t!ie rest to air I — 
Tell Roderick Dh\i, I owed him nought, 
Not the poor service of a boat, 
To waft me to yon mountain side." — 
Then plunged ho in the flashing tide. 
Bold o'er the Hood his head he bore, 
And stoutly steered him from the sliorr 
And Allan strained liis anxious eye. 
Far mid the lake his ibrm to spy, 
Dakcnhig across each puny wave, 
To which the moon her silver gave. 
Fast as the cormorant could skim. 
The swimmer plied each active limb : 
Then, landing in the moonlight dell. 
Loud shouted of his weal to tell. 
The minstrel heard the far halloo, 
And joyful from the sliore withdrew. 



END OF CANTO SECONEt 



THE 

LADY OF TIf 13 LAKE. 

CANTO THIIID, 
THE GATHERING. 



TI ME rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yorf 

Wlio danced our infancy upon their knee, 
And told our rnarvelUnij boyhood legends store. 

Of their straiig'e ventures happ'd by land or sea 
How they are blotted from the thin-gs that be ! 

How few, all weak and withered of their force 
Wait, on the verire of dark eternity. 

Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse. 
To sweep them from our sight I Tinxe rolls hi? 

ceaseless course. 
Vet live there still wiio can remember well, 

How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew. 
Both field and forest, duigle, cliff, and dell, 

And solitary heath, the signal knew ; 
And fast the faithful clan aroi'nd him drew, 

What time tiie warning note was keenly wound 
What time aloft their kindred banner How. 

While clamorous war-pipes yelTed the gathering 
sound, 
And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteoi< 
round 

II. 

The summer dawn's reflected hue 

To purple changed Loch Katrine blue : 



tJO LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto III 

I'^ildly and soft the western breeze 
Tiist kissed the lake, just stirred tlie trees 
and Lhe pleased lake, like maiden coy, 
Tremb'Bd, but dimpled riot for joy : 
■)"'he inountain shadows on her breast 
•Vere neither broken nor at rest ; 
111 bright uncertainty they lie, 
». ike future joys to fancy's eye. 
The water lily to the light 
Her chalice oped of silver bright; 
Die doe awoke, and to the lawn, 
BoiJ'C'nnied with dew-drops, led her faw • 
Thv g.'ay mist left the tnountain side, 
Tu«< lOn-Qril showed its glistening pruk , 
Invwib'^i ii treeked sky. 
The lurk sent down her revelr}' ; 
The bla-k bud cue' the speckled thrus>. 
Good-nK,.TCi'>v pn '(i from brake and bu^i 
In annwer coo'id ^ho ct'siuit dove, 
Her notes of pecvcv;, ana re^t, and lovb. 

III. 

No thought of peace, co ♦height of re?^ 
Assuaged tue storm in Rouerlck's breasi 
With sheathed broadsword in liis hauu, 
Abrupt he paced the islet strand. 
And eyed the rising sun, ana laid 
His hand on his impatient blade. 
Ccneath a rock, his vassaKs care 
Was prompt the ritual to prepare, 
With deep and deathful meanmg trau;;b 
For such antiquity had taught 
Was preface meet, ere yet abroad 
The Cross of Fire sliould take its road. 
The shrinking band stood oft aghast 
^t the impatient glance he cast; — ■ 
Such glance the mountain eagle tri^row 
As, fi-om tiie cliffs oj' Benvenue, 
She spread her dark sails on the wind, 
Ajid, hii'h in middle hca\ en reclimid. 



Canto in. THE GATHERING. 61 

With her dark shadow on the lake. 
Silenced the warblers of ^the brake. 

IV. 

A heap of withered boiij,'hs were piled, 

CM" iiuinii^r and rowan wild. 

Mini-lod with shivers t>om the oak 

Rent by tiw^ hirhtnlng's recent stroke. 

Brian, the hermit, l»y it stood, 

Bare-footed, in h.is frock and hood ; 

His orislod beard and matted hair 

Obscured a visay e of despair : - 

His naked arms and Ic^^^s, •seamed o'er. 

The sears of f'-anlic penance bore. 

That Monk, of savage form and face. 

The in) pending danger of his race 

Had drawn from deepest solitude. 

Far in B<>nh'^rrow's bosom rude. 

Not his the mien of Christian priest, 

Bnt druids, from the grave released, 

Whose hardened lieart and eye might broois 

On Innnaii sacrifice to look. 

And much 'twas said, of heathen lore 

Mixed in the charms he muttered o'er 

Tiie hallowed creed gave only worsd 

And deadlier emphasis of curse. 

No peasant souc;ht that hermit's prayer, 

His cave the pilgrim shunned with care; 

The ea<>er huntsman knew his bound, 

And m mid chase called off his hound* 

Or if, in lonely gien or strath, 

The desert-dvvcllcr met his path, 

He prayed, and signed the cross between. 

While terror look devotion's mien. 

V. 

Of Brian's birth strange tales were told. 
His mother watched a'^midniglit fold, 
Built deep within a dreary glen, 
Where scattered lay the bones of moiv, 



e3 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 10 

In some forgotten battle slain, 

And bleached by driuiijg wifid and rain. 

It iniirht have tamed a warrior's heart. 

To view such mockery of his art : 

The knot-gras-s fettered there the hand. 

Which once could burst an iron band ; 

Beneath the broad and ample bone, 

That bucklered heart to tear unknown 

A feeble and a timorous guest, 

The field-fare framed her lowly nest ; 

There the slow blind-worm left his shme 

On the fleet limbs that mocked at time; 

And there, too, lay the loader's skull. 

Still wreathed with chaplet flushed and full 

For heathrbell, with her purj)le bloom, 

Supplied the bonnet and the plume. 

All night, in this sad glen, the maid 

Sato shroudtKl in her mantle's shade : 

She said, no shepherd sought her sido 

No hunter's hand her snood untied, 

Yet ne'er again to braid her hair 

The virgin snood did Alice wear ; 

Gone was her maiden glee and sport, 

Her maiden girdle all too short. 

Nor sought she from that fatal night. 

Or holy church or blessed rite. 

But locked her secret in her breast. 

And died in travail, unconfessed. 

VL 

Alone, among his young compeers. 
Was Brian from his infant years; 
A moody and heart-broken boy. 
Estranged from sympathy and joy. 
Bearing each taunt with careless tongue 
On his mysterious lineage flimg. 
Whole nights he spent by moonlight palt, 
To wood and stream his hap to wail, 
Till, frantic, he as truth received 
What of his birth the crowd beUeved, 



Canto III. THE GATHER INO. 63 

And soui»'Iit, in mist and meteor tire, 

To meet and know his Phantom Sire! 

In vain, to sooth his wayward fate, 

Tlie cloister oped hor pitying gate ; 

(n vain, the learning of the age 

Unclasped the sahle-lettered page; 

Even in its treasures lie could find 

Food for the fever of his mind. 

Eage*- he read whatever tells 

Of magic, cabala, and spells. 

And every dark pursuit allied 

To curious and presumptuous pride. 

Till, with fired brain and nerves overstrung, 

And heart with mystic horrors wrung, 

Desperate he sought Benharrow's den, 

And hid him from the haunts of men. 

VII. 

The desert gave him visions wild. 
Such as might suit the Spectre's child . 
Where with black clitts the torrents toil, 
Ho watciied the wheeling eddies boil, 
Till, from their foam, his dazzled eyes 
Beheld the river-demon rise ; 
The mountain mist took form and limb, 
Of noontide hag, or goblin grim ; 
The midnight wind came wild and dread. 
Swelled with the voices of the dead; 
F^ar on the future battle-heath 
His eye beheld the ranks of death . 
Thus the lone Seer, from mankind hurled. 
Shaped forth a disembodied world. 
One lingering sympatiiy of mind 
Still bound him to the mortal kind; 
The only parent ho could claim 
Of ancient Alpine's lineage came. 
Late had he heard, in prophet's dream. 
The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream; 
Sounds, too, had como in midnight blast, 
Of charging steeds careering fast 



64 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto UL 

Along Benharrow's shiiioly side, 

Where mortal horsciinan ne'er might ride : 

The thunder, too, had split the pine, — 

All auour"'d ill to Alpine's hne. 

He oirt his loins, and came to show 

The signals of" impending wo. 

And now stood prompt to bless or ban, 

\s bade the Chieftain of his clan. 

vin. 

'Twas all prepared ; — and from the rock, 
A goat, the patriarch of the flock, 
Before the kindling pile was laid, 
And pierced by Roderick's ready blade* 
Patient the sickening victim eyed 
The life-blood ebb in crimson tide, 
Down his clogged beard and shaggy limb, 
Till darkness glazed his eye-balls dim. 
The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer^ 
A slender crosslet framed with care, 
A cubit's length in measure due ; 
The shaft and limb were rods of yew, 
Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave 
Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpme's grave, 
And, answering Lomond's breezes deep, 
Sooth many a chieftain's endless sleep. 
The Cross, thus formed, he held on high, 
With wasted hand and hagard eye, 
And strange and mingled feelings woke. 
While his anathema he spoke. 

IX. 

•* Wo to the clansman, who shall view 
This symbol of sepulchral yew, 
Forgetful that its branches grew 
Where weep the heavens their holiest dew 

On Alpine's dwelling low ! 
Deserter of his chieftain's trust, 
He ne'er shall mingle with tlieir dust. 



Canto m. THE GATHERING 65 

But from liis sires and kindred thrust. 
Each clansman's execration just 

Shall doom him wrath and wo." 
lie paused ; — the word the vassals took, 
With forward step and fiery look, 
On high their naked brands tliey shook. 
Their clattering targets wildly strook ; 

And first, in murmur low. 
Then, like the billow in its course. 
That far to seaward finds his source. 
And flings to shore his mustered force, 
Burst, with loud roar, their answer hoarse 

'' Wo to the traitor, wo I" 
Ben-an'sgray scalp the accents knew, 
Tlie joyous wolf from covert drew. 
The exulting eagle screamed afar, — 
They knew the voice of Alpine's war. 

X. 

The shout was hushed on lake and fell. 
The monk resumed his muttered spell. 
Dismal and low its accents came. 
The while he scathed the Cross with flaino 
And the few words that reached the air, 
Although the holiest name was there. 
Had more of blasphemy than prayer. 
But when he shook above the crowd 
Its kindled points, he spoke aloud : — 
" Wo to the wretch, who fails to rear 
At this dread sign the ready spear ! 
For, as the flames this symbol sear, 
His home, the refuge of his fear, 

A kindred fate shall know ; 
Far o'er its roof the volumed flame 
Clan-Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim, 
While maids and matrons on his name 
Sliall call down wretchedness and shame, 

And infamy and wo." — 

Then rose the cry of females, shrill 

As goss-hav»>ks whistle on the hill, 

E 



66 LADY OF THE LAKE. CaiUc lU 

Denouncing misery and ill, 

Mingled with childliood's babbling trUJ 

Of carsos stammered slow ; 
Answering, with imprecation dread, 
" Sunk be his home in embers red ; 
And cursed be tiie meanest shed 
That e'er shall hide the houseless head, 

We doom to want and wo V' 
A sharp and shrieking eclio gave, 
Goir-Uriskin, thy goblin cave 1 
And tire gray pass where birches wave, 

On Beala-nam-bo, 

XL 

Then deeper paused the priest anew, 
And hard his labouring breath he drew, 
While, with set teeth, and clenched liand, 
And eyes that glowed like fiery brand, 
He meditated curse more dread, 
And deadlier, on the clansman's head, 
Who, summoned to his Chieftain's aid, 
The signal saw and disobeyed. 
The crosslet's points of sparkting wood. 
He quenched among the bubbling blood, 
And, as again the sign he reared. 
Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard : 
" When flits this Cross from man to man, 
Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan, 
Burst be the ear that fails to heed'. 
Palsied the foot that shuns to speed I 
May ravens tear the careless eyes. 
Wolves make the coward heart their prize I 
As sinks that blood-stream in the earth, 
So may his heart's-blood drench his hearth! 
As dies in hissing gore the spark. 
Quench thou his light, Destruction dark I 
And bo the grace to him denied. 
Brought by this sign to all beside 1" — ■ 
He ceased ; no echo gave agen 
Tlie murmur of the deep Amen. ^^ 



Canto III. THE GATHERiMO. 
XII. 

Then Roderick, with impatient look. 

From Brian's hand the tjyrabol took : 

*' Speed, Malise, speed 1" he said, and gave 

The crosslet to his hench-man brave. 

"' The muster-place be Lanric mead — 

Instant the time—speed, Mahse, speed V 

Like heatii-bird, when the hawks pursue, 

A barge across Locli-Katrine tlew ; 

High stood the hench-man on the prow, 

So°rapidly the barge-men row, 

The bubbles, where they launched the boat. 

Were all unbroken and afloat. 

Dancing in foam and ripple still, 

When it had neared the mainland hill : 

And from the silver beach's side 

Still was the prow three fathom wide, 

When lightly bounded to the land. 

The messenger of blood and brand. 

XIII. 

Speed, Malise, speed ! the dun deer's hide 
On fleeter foot was never tied. 
Speed, Malise, speed I such cause of haste 
Thine active sinews never braced. 
Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast, 
Burst down like torrent from its crest; 
With short and springing footstep pass 
The trembling bog and false morass ; 
Across the brook like roe-buck bound. 
And thread the break like questing hound ; 
The crag is high, the scaur is deep. 
Yet shrink not from the desperate leap ; 
Parf.hcd arc thy burning lips and brov/, 
Yet by the fountain pause not now; 
Herald of battle, fate, and fear, 
Stretch onward in thy fleet career ! 
The wounded hind thou track"s1 not now, 
Pursnest not maid through greenwood bougn. 



«e LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto III. 

Nor |>liest tliou now thy flying {)ace 
Willi rivals in the mountain race ; 
But danger, death and warrior deed, 
Are ill thy course — Speed, Malisc, speed! 

XIV. 

Fast as the fatal .symbol flies, 
7i arms the huts and liamlets rise; 
From winding glen, from upland brown 
They poured each hardy teinmt down. 
Nor .slacked the niesseuger his pace; 
He showed the sign, he named the place. 
And, prcssnig forward like the wind, 
Left cliiniour a>id surprise behind. 
The fisherman forsook the strand. 
The swartliy smith took dirk and brand; 
With changed cheer, the mower blithe 
Left in the half-cut swathe his scythe ; 
'J'iie henis without a keeper .«trayed, 
The f>lough was in mid-furrow stayed, 
The fah^'ner tossed his hawk away 
Tiie hunter left the stag at bay ; 
Prompt at the signal of alarms, 
f^ach son of Alpine rushed to arms; 
So swept the tumult and affray 
Along the margin of Achriiy. 
Alas, thou lovely lake I t}>at e'er 
Tiiy banks should echo sounds of fear. 
Thr? rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep 
So stilly on thy bosom deep, . 

The lark's blithe carol from the cloud, 

'eems for the scene too gayly loud. 

XV. 

Speed, Malise, speed ! the lake is past, 
Dtmcraggan's huts ap[)ear at last, 
And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen 
Half hidden m the copse so green ; 
Tlier'! nuiy'st thou rest, thy labour done, 
Theii Oi"d shall speed tlie signal on. — 



<;anioIIi THE GATHERING. m 

As stoops the hawk upon his prey. 
The hench-nian olio.t him down iho wav 
What woful accents load the gale ? 
TJie funeral yell, the femal-e wail I- - 
A jrallant hunter's sport is oY-r, 
A valiant warrior %hts no more. 
Who, in the battle or the chase, 
At Roderick's side shall fill Ids place '- 
Within the hall, where torches' ray 
Supply the excluded beams of day, 
Lies Duncan on his lowly bier, 
And o er him streams his widow's tear. 
His stripling son stands mournful by, 
His youngest weeps, but knows not why 
The village maids and matrons round 
I'be dismal coronach* resound. 



XVI. 

CORONACH. 

He is gone on the mountain. 

He is lost to the forest. 
Like a summer-dried fountain, 

When our need was the sorest. 
The font, reappearing, 

From the rain-drops shall borrow. 
But to us comes no cheering, 

To Duncan no morrow ! 

The hand of the reaper 

Takes the ears that are hoary, 
But the voice of the weeper 

Wails manhood in glory ; 
The autumn winds rushing 

Waft the loaves that are searesL 
But our flower was in flushing. 

When blighting was nearesL 

•Fujifral Song. See N-:)ta. 



70 LADY OF THE LAKE Canto lit 

Fleet foot on the correi,* 

8age counsel encun)ber, 
Red hand in the foray. 

How sound is thy slumber I 
Like the dew on the mountain^ 

Like the foam on the river, 
Like the bubble on the fountain. 

Thou art gone, and for ever I 

xvn. 

See Stumah,t who, the bier beside, 
His master's corpse with wonder eyed» 
Poor Stumah ! whom his least halloo 
Could .send like lightning o'er the dew» 
Bristles his crest, and points his ears, 
As if some stranger step he hears. 
*Tis not a mourner's muffled tread. 
Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead, 
But headlong haste or deadly fear, 
Urge the precipitate career. 
All stand aghast: — unheeding all. 
The hench-man bursts into the hall ; 
Before the dead man's bier he stood, 
Held fortli the Cross besmeared with blood; 
" The muster- place be Lanric mead ; 
Speed forth the signal ! clansmen, speed !" 

XVHI. 

Angus, the heir of Duncan''s line, 
Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign. 
In haste the stripling to his side 
His father's dirk and broad-sword tied 
But when he saw his motiier's eye 
Watch him in speechlt^s agony, 
Back to her opened arms he flew, 
Pressed on her lips a fond adieu — 

* Or com'. The lioliow side of the hiU. whaie (i«i»u 
i8a."illy lit-s- 
t Vatthfuh Th*> name of x »!*>«'. 



Canto III. TFfE GATHERING. 71 

** Alas 1"' she sobbed, — " aad yot be i;rone, 

And speed thee forl.h, like Duucan's son !" 

One look he cast upon tiie hier. 

Dashed from his eye the gathering tear, 

Bi-eathed deep, to char his labouring breast. 

And toss'd aloft his bonmst crest, 

Then, like the high-bred colt wlien freed 

First he evssays his fire and speed. 

He vanished, and oer rnoor and moss 

Sped forward with the Fiery Cross. 

Suspeidod was ihe widow s tear, 

Wiiile yet his footsteps she could hear; 

And when she marked the hench-nian's eye 

Wet with unwonted sympathy, 

*' Kinsman," she said, " his race is run, 

That should have sped thine errand on; 

Tlie oak has fallen, — the sapling bough' 

(s all Duncraggan's shelter now. 

Yet trust i well, his duty done. 

The orphan's God will guard my son. — 

And you, in many a danger true. 

At Duncan's hest your blades that drew. 

To arms, and guard that orphan's head I 

Let babus and women wail the dead." 

Then weapon clang, and martial call. 

Resounded througli the funeral hall, 

While from the walls the attendant band 

Snatched sword and tarife, with hurried hand 

And short and Hitting energy 

Glanced Iront 'he (Uviurner's sunken eye. 

As if tiie soun<i.> iv "arrior dear 

Might rouse ii'' Dun'^an from his bier; 

But faded soon that borrowed force ; 

Grief claimed his right, and tears tlieir course 

XIX. 

Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, 
U glanced like lightning up Strath-W. 
O'er dale and hill the summons flew, 
Nfvr rest i*or pause young Angus knew; 



72 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 10 

The tear, tliat gathered in his eye, 

He left tlie mountain breeze to dry ; 

Until, where Teitli's young vv;iiors roll, 

Betwixt hjm and a wooden knoU, 

Tliat graced the palate stratii witli ffreen. 

The chapel of Saint Bride v/a.-« see]i. 

Swoln was the stream, remote tiie bridge, 

But Angus paused not on tlic edge ; 

Though the dark waves dancf d dizzily, 

Thougli reeled his sympathetic eye, 

He dashed amid the torrent's roar; 

His riglit hand liigh the crosslet bore, 

His left the pole-axe grasped, to guide 

And slay his footing in the tide. 

lie stumbled twice — the foam splashed high 

With hoarser swell tl)e stream raeed by; 

And had he fallen, — for ever there, 

Farewell Dimcraggan's orphan heir ! 

But still, as if in parting life. 

Firmer he grasped the Cross of strife, 

Until the opposmg bank he gaijied, 

.And up the chapel pathway slrahied. 

XX. 

A blithsome rout, that morning tide. 
Had sought the chapel of Saint Bride. 
Her troth Tombca's Mary gave 
To Norman, heir of Armandave, 
And, issuing from the Gothic arch. 
The bridal now re.sinned their march, 
fn rude, but glad procession, came 
Boimeted sire and coif-clad dame ; 
And plaided youlli, witli jest and jeer, 
Which snooded maiden would not hear . 
And children, that, unwitting v\'hy. 
Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry ; 
And minstrels, that in measures vied 
Before tlie young and bf»nny bride, 
Whose downcast eve and cheek discloPi. 
The tear and blush of morning rose. 



Canto in. THE GATHERING. 71 

With vir2:in step, and bashful hand, 
She held tht; kerchief's snowy band ; 
Tiie gallant bridcirroom, by lier side. 
Beheld his prize with victor's pride, 
And the glad mother in her ear 
Was closely whispering word of cheer 

XXI. 

Who meets them at the cJiurchyard ^ate 

The messenger of foar and fate ! 

Haste in his hurried accent lies, 

And grief is swimming in liis eyes. 

All dripping from the recent flood, 

{'anting and travel-soiled he stood, 

The fata: sign of fire and sword 

Held forth, and spoke the appointed word ; 

" The tnustering place is Laurie mead, 

Speed forth the signal ! Norman, speed !"- 

And must he change so soon the hand, 

Just linked to his by holy band. 

For the fell Cross of blood and brand ? 

And must the day, so blithe that rose, 

And promised rapture in the close, 

Before its setting hour, divide 

The bridegroom from the plighted bride' 

O fatal doom ! — it must ! it must ! 

Clan Alpine's cause, lier chieftain's trust. 

Her summons dread brooks no delay ; 

Stretch tc the race — away ! away ! 

XXII. 

Vet slow he laid his plaid aside. 
And, lingering, eyed his lovely bride. 
Until he saw the starting tear 
Speak wo he mignt not stop to cheer : 
Then trusting not a second look, 
In haste he sped him up the brook, 
Nor backward glanced till on the heath 
WV'«>rf Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teitn.- 



74 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 

What in t!ie racer's bosom stirre,d ? — 
The sickening pang of hope deferred, 
And memory, with a torturing train 
Of all his morning visions vain, 
.Mingled with love's impatience, came 
The manly thirst for martial fame; 
Tlie stormy joy of mountaineers, 
Ere yet they rush upon the spears ; 
And zeal for clan and chieft?in burni'^.g, 
And Iiope, from well-fought field returning, 
\Vith wars red honours on his crest, 
To clasp his Mary to his breast. 
Stung by sucli thoughts, o'er bank and brae. 
Like fire from flint he glanced away. 
While high resolve, and feehng strong, 
Burst into voluntary song. 

XXIIL 

SONG. 

The heath this night must be my bed 
The bracken* curtain for my head, 
My lullaby the warder's tread, 

Far, far from love and thee, Mary. 
To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, 
My couch may be my bloody plaid. 
My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid ! 

It will not waken lue, Mary i 

{ may not, dare not, fancy now 

The grief that clouds thy lovely brow 

I dare not think u{)on thy vow, 

And all it promised me, Mary. 
No fond regret must Norman know; 
When bursts Clan- Alpine on the foe, 
His heart must be like bended bow, 

Hi.s foot like arrow free, Mary. 

H^akrn — Fern. 



C&ntom. THE GATHERING. 76 

A time will come with feeling frauglit ' 
For, if I fall in battle fought. 
Thy hapless lover's dying thought 

Shall be a thought on thee, Mary 
And if returned from conquered foes. 
How blithely will the evening close, 
How sweet the linnet sing repose, 

To my young bride and me, Mary . 

XXIV. 

Not faster o'er thy heatliery braes, 

Balquidder, speeds the midnigiit blaze. 

Rushing, in conflagration strong, 

Thy deep ravines and dells along, 

Wrapping thy clifts in purple glow. 

And reddening the dark lakes below ; 

Nor faster s{>eeds it, nor so far. 

As o'er thy heaths the voice of waj. 

The signal roused to martial coil 

The sullen margin of Loch-Voil, 

Waked still Loch-Doine. and to the sourc<; • 

Alarmed, Balvaig, thy swampy course ; 

Thence southward turned its rapid road 

Adown Strath-Gartney's valley broad, 

Till rose in arms each man might claim 

A portion in Clan-Alpine's name ; 

From the ffray sire, wliosc trembling hand 

Could hardly buckle on his brand, 

To the rav.* boy, whose shaft and bow 

Were yet scarce terror to the crow. 

Each valley, each sequestered glen, 

Mustered its little horde of men. 

That met as torrents from the height 

In Highlpnd date their streams unite, 

Still gathering, as they pour along, 

A voice more loud, a tide more strong. 

Till at the rendezvous they stood 

By hundreds, prompt for blows and blood : 

Each trained to arms since life began. 

Owing no tie but to his clan. 



76 LADY OF THE LAKE. Cai.t.o la 

No oath, but by his cliieftain's hand, 
No law, but lloderick Dhu\s command. 

XXV. 

Tliat suniiTier niorr: had Pvoderick Dhu 

Surveyed ihr^ skirts of Benvenue, 

And sRut nis scouts o'er hih and heath, 

To view tile trontiers of Menteith. 

All backward ca:ne vvitli news of truco ; 

Still lay ea('.h martial Grajrne and Bruce, 

In Rednociv courts no horsemen wait, 

iVo banner waved on Cardross gate 

On Duch.ray's towers no beacon shone, 

Nor scared llie hurous from Loch-Con ; 

AH seemed at peace. — Now, wot ye why 

TJie Chieftain, wtlli such anxious eye, 

P>e to the uuister be repair. 

This westeni frontier scanned with care ?— 

In Benveuue's most darksome cleft, 

A fair, thouifh cruel, pledge was left ; 

For X^ouglas, to his promise true, 

That morning- from the isle withdrew. 

And in a deep sequestered dell 

Had sought a low and lonely cell. 

By many a bard, in Celtic tongue, 

Has Coir-nau-Uriskin l°en sung ; 

A softer name the Saxons gave. 

And called the grot the Goblin-cave. 

XXVL 

it. was a v^ild and strange retreat, 
As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet. 
The dell, ujion the mountain's crest. 
Yawned hke a L>ash on warrior's brea^^t -. 
Its trench had stayed full many a rock. 
Hurled by primeval earthquake shock 
i''rom Beiivenues gray summit wild. 
And here, in random ruin piled. 
They frowned incumbent o'er the spot, 
And formed tlie rugged sylvan grot 



I 



Canto 111. THE GATIU'.RING. 

The oak and birch, with mingled shade 
At noontide there a twiUght made, 
Unless wlien short and sudden shone 
Some straiTi'l-ing beam on chll' or stone. 
With sucira glimpse as propliet's eye 
Gains on thy depth. Futurity. 
No murmur waked the solemn still. 
Save tinkling of a fountain nil ; 
But when tlfe wind chafed with the lak« 
A sullen sound would upward break. 
With dashing hollow voice, that spoke 
The incessant war of wave and rock. 
Suspended cliffs, with hideous sway, 
Seemed nodding o'er the cavern gray. 
From such a deu the wolf had sprung. 
In such the wild cat leaves her young; 
Yet Douglas and his daughter tair. 
Sought, for a space, their safety there. 
Gray Superstition's whisper dread 
Debarred the spot to vul-gar tread ; 
For there, she said, did fays resort, 
And satyrs* hold their sylvan court, 
By moonlight tread their mystic maze. 
And blast the rash beholder's gaze. 

XXVIL 

Now eve, with western shadows long, 
Floated on Katrine bright and strong. 
When Roderick, with a chosen few, 
Repassed the heights of Benvonue. 
Above the Goblin-cave they go. 
Through the wild pass of Be-'il-nam-Bo: 
The pr1>mpt retainers speed before. 
To launch the shallop from the .-hore. 
For cross Loch-Katrine lies his way 
To view the passes of Achray, 
And place his clansmen in array. 
Yet laos the Cliiet in musing imnd. 
Unwonted sight, his men behind. 

* The Urisk, or highland satyr. See Nolo. 



rt 



?3 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto II! 

A single page, to bear his sword, 

Alone atleiidcd on his lord; 

Tlie rest their way through thickets breaks 

And soon await him by the lake. 

It was a fair and oalhuit sight, 

To view tluni tioni ttic neighbouring height 

By the low-levelled sunbeam's light; 

For strength and stature, from the clan 

Eacii warrior was a chosen man, 

As ev(ni afar might well be seen, 

fiy their proud step and martial mien. 

Their fcaihcrs dance, tiicir tartans float, 

Their targets gleam, as by the boat 

A wild and warlike groupe they stand. 

That well becan)e sucli mountain strand. 

XXVIII. 

Their cl)ief with step reluctant still. 
Was lingering on the craggy hill, 
Hard by where turned apart the road 
To Doiiglas s obscure abode. 
It was but with thai dawning morn 
That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn. 
To drown his love in war's wild roar, 
Nor thmk of Ellen Douglas more ; 
But he who sterns a stream with satid. 
And fetters flame with tlaxen band. 
Has yet a harder task to prove — 
By firjn resolve to concpicr love I 
Eve finds the chief, like restless ghost, 
Still hovering near his treasure lost; 
For though his haughty heart deny 
A parting meeting to his eye, 
Siill fondily strains his anxious car, 
The accents of iicr voice to hear, 
And inly did he curse the breeze 
That waked to sound the rustling trees 
But hark ! vi'liat mingles in the strain ^ 
[t is tlie harp of Alb-ui-bane, 



Canto ia THE GATHERING. 19 

That wakes its measures slow and higli. 
Attuned to sacreU minstrelsy. 
What melting voice attends the struigs? 
Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings. 

XXIX. 
HYMN TO THE VIRGIN. 

•ire Maria I maiden mild 1 

Listen to a maiden's prayer ; 
Thou canst hear, though from the wild ; 

Thou canst save amid despair. 
Safe may we sleep beneath thy care, 

Though banished, outcast, and reviled — 
Maiden ! hear a maiden's prayer. 

Mother ! hear a suppliant child ! 

Ave Maria 

Ave Maria ! undefiled ! 

The flinty couch we now must share, 
Shall seem with down of eider piled, 

If thy protection hover there. 
The murky cavern's heavy air 

Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled ; 
Then, Maiden I hear a maiden's prayer, 

Mother, list a suppliant child ! 



Ave Mana 



Ave Maria ! stainless styled . 

Foul demons of the earth and air 
From this their wonted haunt exiled, 

Shall flee before thy presence fair. 
We bow us to our lot of care. 

Beneath thy guidance reconciled ; 
Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer. 

And for a father hear a child I 



XXX. 

Died on the harp the closing hymn 
JTrunoved in attitude and limb. 



Ave Marui 



80 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto III 

As listening still, Clan-Alpine\s lord 
Stood leading on his heavy sword, 
Until the page, with humble sign, 
Twice pointed to the sun's decline ; 
Then, while his plaid he^round him cast, 
'• It is the last time — 'tis the last,'' — 
He muttered thrice, — " the last time e'er 
That angel voice shall Roderick hear 1" 
It was a goading thought — his stride 
Hied hastier down the mountain side ; 
Sullen he flung him in the boat. 
And instant cross the lake it shot. 
They landed in that silvery bay, 
And eastward held their hasty v^^y. 
Till with the latest beams of light. 
The band arrived on Lanric height, 
Where mustered in the vale below, 
Clan-Alpine's men in martial show. 

XXXI. 

A various scene the clansmen made, 

Some sate, some stood, some slowly strayed 

But most, with mantles folded round, 

Were couched to rest upon the ground. 

Scarce to be known by curious eye, 

From the deep heather where they lie. 

So well was matched the tartan screen 

With heath-bell dark and brackens green ; 

Unless v/here, here and there, a blade. 

Or lance's point, a glimmer made, 

Like glowworm twmkling through the shade 

But, when, advancing through the gloom. 

They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume, 

Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, 

Snook the steep mountain's steady side. 

Thrice it arose, and lake and fell 

Three tin\es returned the martial yell. 

It died upon Bochastlo's plain, 

And si'encft claimed her evening reign, 

END OF CANTO THIUD. 



THE 

LADY OF THE LAKE. 

CANTO f^OURTH. 
THE PROPHECY. 

1. 

'*THE rose is fairest when 'tis budding new. 
And hopcisbrio-iilest when it dawns troin fears 

The rose is sweetest washed witli morning dew. 
And love is lovehest when cuibahned in tears. 

O wilding rose, wlioni fancy thus endears, 
I bid your blosso-ms in my bonn«t wave, 

Kmblem of hope and love through future years !' 
Thus jpoke young Norman, heir of Annandave 
What time the sun arose on Vennachar's broad 
wave. 

11. 

Huch fond conceit, half said half sung, 

Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue ; 

All while he stripped the wild-rose spray. 

His axe and bow beside hiin lay, 

For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood. 

A wakeful sentinel he stood. 

Hark I— on the rock a footstep rung 

And instant to his arms he sprung. 

'' Stand, or thou diest!— What, Malise i"— soon 

Art thou returned from Braos of Doune. 

By thy keen step and glance 1 know, 

Thou bring"5t us tidings of the foe.' — 

(For while the Fiery Cross hied on. 

On distant scout had Malise gone.) 
F 



82 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 

'• Where sleeps tiio Chief.'*" the henchmftn said, 
''Apart, ill yonder misty glade ; 
To his icnie couch FU be your jjuido." 
Th<!n called a slutnberor by his side, 
And stirred hiiu with his slackened bow— 
" Up, up, Glcntarkin '. rouse thee, ho 1 
We seek the Chieftain ; on the track 
eep eagle-watch till 1 come Dack.""' 

in. 

T oijctiier up ihe pass they sped : 

"• What of the foemen," Norman said — 

" Varying reports from near and far ; 

This certain, — that a band of war 

Has for two days been ready boune, 

At prompt command, to march from Douue* 

King James, the while, with princely powers 

Holds revelry in Stirling towers. 

Soon will this dark and gathering cloud 

Speak on our glens in thunder loud. 

[niired to bide such bitter bout, 

The warrior's plaid may bear it out ; 

But, Norman, how wilt thou provide 

A shelter for thy bonny bride ?" — 

'' What ! know ye not that Roderick's care 

To the lone isle hath caused repair 

Each maid and matron of the clan, 

And every child and aged man 

Unfit for arms.-* and given his charge. 

Nor skiff nor shallop, boat nor barge. 

Upon these lakes shall float at large, 

But all beside the islet moor, 

That such dear pledge may rest secur*'. ' ' 

IV. 

" 'Tis well advised — the Chieftain's plan 
Bespeaks the father of his clan. 
But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu 
Apart from all his followers true ''' 



Canto IV. THL PR<.)P}IECY. 83 

" It is, because last evenintr-tjdo, 

Brian an augury had tried. 

Of that dread kind which must not bs 

Unless in dread extremity, 

The Tai«^hairm called ; hy whi-.h. afar, 

Our sires' foresaw the events oi' war. 

Duncraggan's milk-while bull they slew/'- 

MALISE. 

" Ah ! well the gallant brute 1 knew ! 
The choicest of Ihe prey we had. 
When swept our merry-men Gallanrad. 
His hide was snow, his horns wcrii dark, 
His red eye glowed like fiery si)ark ; 
So fierce, so tameless, and so Heet, 
Sore did he cumber our retreat, 
And kept our stoutest kenies m awe, 
Even at the pass of Beal 'malia.^ 
But steep and flinty was t!ie v(ni<i, 
And sharp ine hurrying pikeman's goad, 
And when we came to Dennans Row, 
A child might scatheless stroke Ins brow. 



NORMAN. 
*» That bull was slain : his reeking hide 
They stretclied ihe cataract beside. 
Whose waters their wild tunniit los.s 
Adown the black aiui craggy boss 
Of that huge ciitf. wliosj; ample verge 
Tradition calls the lleio b Tarire. 
Couch'd on a shelve bcne.ath its brink. 
Close where the thunderitiiT torrents suik, 
Rocking beneath llieir headlong sway. 
And driVzled by the ceai-seless spray. 
Midst groan of rock, and roar oi' stream, 
ThewK'.ard waits proplietic dream. 
Nor distant rest^• the Ciiief :— but liush I 
See, gliding slow throu/{h mist and bu.riJi. 



84 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 

The hermit gains yon rock, and stands 

To g-azc upon our slumbering bands. 

Seems lie not, Malise, like a ghost, 

That liovers o'er a slaughtered host ! 

Or raven on the blasted oak, 

That, watching while the deer is broke,* 

His morsel claims with sullen croak ?'' — 

— '■'■ Peace 1 peace I to other tlian to me. 

Thy words were evil augury ; 

But still I hold Sir Roderick's blade 

Clan Alpine's omen and her aid, 

iNot aught that, gleaned from heaven or hel 

Yon fiend-begotten monk can tell. 

The Chieftain joins him, sec — and now. 

Together they descend the brow." — 

VL 

And, as they came, with Alpine's lord 
The hermit Moiik held solemn word : 
" Roderick 1 it is a fearful strife, 
For man endowed with mortal life, 
Whose shroud of sentient clay can still 
Feel feverish pang and fainting chill, 
Wliose eye can stare in stony trance, 
Whose hair can rouse like warrior's lance.- 
'Tis hard for such to view, unfurled, 
The curtain of the future world 4 

Yet, witness every quaking liml, '' 

My sunken pulse, mine eyeballs dim, 
My soul with harrowing anguish torn, 
This for my chieftain have 1 borne ' — 
The shapes that sought my fearful couch. 
A human tongue may ne'er avouch ; 
No mortal man, — save he, who, bred 
Between the living and the dead, 
Is gifted beyond nature's law, — 
Had e'er survived to say he saw. 
At length the fatal answer came, 
In characters of living flame ' 

* Quartered. See Note. 



Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. 8S 

jNot spoko ill word, nor blazed in scroll. 
But borne and branded on my sonl; — 
Which spills the forkmost fokman's life. 
That PARrY conquers \y the strife." 

vn, 

"Tlianks, Brian, for thy zeal and care I 

Good is lliine augury, and fair. 

CIan-AI]niie, ne'er in battle stood, 

Bui first our broad-swords tasted blood. 

A surer viclitn .still I know, 

Self-olTerod to tjie auspicious blow; 

A spy iiatli sougiit my land this morn, 

No eve shall witness his return! 

My followers guard each pass's mouth, 

To east, to westward, and to south ; 

Red Murdfjch, bribed to be his guide, 

Has cliarL''o to load his steps aside, 

Till, in deep path or dingle brown, 

He light on those shall bring him down.— 

But sec, who conies his news to show! 

Malise I what tidings of the foe?" 

vin. 

** At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive, 

Two barons proud their banners wave. 

1 saw the Moray's silver star, 

And marked the sable pale of Mar." — 

'By AIj)ine's soui, high tidings those! 

I love to hear of wortjiy foes. 

When move they onf"' — " To-morrow's noon 

Will see them here for baltlc bouue." — 

'^ Then shall it see a meeting stern I- 

But,for the place — say, couldst thou learn 

Nought of the friendly clans of Earn? 

Strengthened by them we well might bide 

The battle on Bcnlcdi's side. — 

Thou couldst not? — well I Clan- Alpine's men 

Shall man the Trosach's shaggy gien ; 



86 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto fV 

Within Loch-Katrine's g-orge we'll fight, 

All in our maids'' and matrons'' sight. 

Each for his heartli und household fire, 

Father lor child, and .-ion for sire. 

Lover for maid beloved ! — but why — 

Is it the breeze affects mine eye ? 

Or dost thou come, ill-omened tear ! 

A messenger of doubt or ft;ar? 

No I sooner may the Saxo/i lance 

Unfix Benledi from his stance, * 

Than doubt or terror can pierce through 

The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu ; 

'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe. — 

Each to his post ! — all know tlieir cliarge''— 

The pibroch sounds, the bands advance. 

The broad-swords gleam, the barmers dance 

Obedient to the Chieftain's glance. 

I turn me from the martial roar, 

And seek Coir-Uriskin once more. 

IX. 

Where is the Douglas? — he is gone ; 
And Ellen sits on tlie gray stone 
Fast by the cave, and makes her moan ; 
While vainly Allan's words of cheer 
Are ponred on her unheeding ear. — 
•'He will return — Dear lady, trust I — 
With joy return ; — he will— he must. 
Well was it time to seek afar, 
Some refuge from impending war, 
When e'en Clan-Al pine's rugged swarnii 
Arc cow'd by the approaching storm. 
I saw their boats, with many a light, 
Floating the live-long yesternight, 
Shifting like flashes darted forth 
By the red streamers of the north; 
I marked at morn how close they rido, 
Thick moored t)y the lone islet's side, 
Like wild ducks couching in the fen, 
, When stoops the hawk upon the glen. 



Canto IV THE PROPHECY. 67 

Since this rude race dare not abide 
Tlie peril on the mainland side, 
Shall not thy noble latlier's c.ire 
Some safe retreat lor thee prepare?" — 

X. 

£LLEx\. 

No, Allan, no I Pretext so kind 
My wakeful terrors could not blind. 
When in yuch tender tone, yet grave, 
Douglas a pariiijg uiessing gave, 
The tear that glistened in his eye 
Drowned not his purpose fixed and high. 
My soul, though ieminineand weak, 
Can image his ; e'en as the lake, 
Itself disturbed by slightest stroke, 
Reflects the invulnerable rock. 
He hears report of battle rife, 
He deems himself t'le cause of strife 
I saw Jiim redden, when the thone 
Turned, Allan, on tlune idle dream, 
Of Malcolm Graiine in fetters bound, 
Which 1, thou said st, about him wound. 
Think'st thou he trow'd thine omen augh« 
Oh no ! 'tvvas apprehensive thought 
For the kind youth, — for Pvoderick too — 
(Let me be just) that friend so true ; 
In danger both, and in our ca-ase I 
Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause. 
Why else that solenni warning given, 
" If not on earth, we meet in heaven?*' 
Why else, to Cambus-kenneth's fane, 
If eve return him not again. 
Am I to hie and make me k)iown? 
Alas I he goes to Scotland's throne, 
IJuys his friends'" safety with his own , — 
He goes to do — what i had done, 
Flad Douglas' daughter been hijj son J" 



88 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 

XI. 

" Nay, lovely Ellen ! — dearest, naj' I 
If aught should his return delay, ,. 
He only named yon holj' fane 
As fitting place to meet agaui. 
Be sure he's safe ; and for the Grajnie, — 
Heaven's blessing on his gallant name ! — 
My vision sight may yet prove true, 
Nor bode of ill to him or yon. 
Wlicu did my gifted dnmm beguile.'* 
Think of the stranger at the isle. 
And think upon the harpings slow, 
Tliat presaged this approaching wo! 
Sooth was my prophecy of fear ; 
Believe it when it augurs cheer. 
Would we had loft this dismal spot I 
111 luck still haunts a fairy grot. 
Of such a wondrous tale I know- 
Dear lady, change that look of wo ! 
My harp was wont thy grief to cheer,"-— 

ELLEN. 

" Well, be it as thou wilt ; I hear, 
But cannot stop the bursting tear.""'- - 
The minstrel tried his simple art, 
But distant far was Ellen's heart 

XTl 

B ALLAH 

ALICE BRAND. 

Merry it is in the good green wood, 
When tlie mavis* and merlet are singing, 

When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds aro m 
cry. 
And the hunter's horn is ringing. 

* Thrush. t R'.ackbirtJ 



Canto rV. THE PROPHECY. H9 

" O Alice Brand, my native land 

]rf lost for love of you ; 
And we must hold by w^ood and wold. 

As outlaws wont to do. 

" O Alice, 'twas all for thy locks so bright. 
And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue, 

Tliat on the night of our luckless flight, 
Thy brother bold 1 slew. 

^'^ Now must I teach to hew the beech, 

The hand iJiat held the glaive, 
For leaves to spread our lowly bed. 

And stakes to fence our cave. 

" And for vest of pall, thy fingers small. 

That wont on harp to stray, 
A floak must shear from the slaughtered deer 

To keep the cold away." — 

' O Richard I if my brother died, 

'Twas but a fatal chance ; 
For darkling was the battle tried, 

And fortune sped the lance. 

"•If pall and vair no more I wear, i 

Nor thou the crimson sheen, 
As warm, we'll say, is the russet gray. 

As gay the forest-green. 

** And, Richard, if our lot be hard, 

And lost thy native land. 
Still Alice has her own Richard, 

And he his Alice Brand." — 

XIII. 
BALLAD CONTINUED. 

'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good green wood. 

So blithe Lady Alice is sinfjinij ; 
On the beech's pride, and the oak's brown side. 

Lord Richard's axe is ringing. 



% LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto »V 

Up spoke the moody Elfin King-, 

Who wonM within the hill, — 
f .ike wind in the porch of a ruined church. 

His voice was ghostly shrill. 

" Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak. ■ 

Our moonlight circle's screen? 
Or who comes here to chase the deer. 

Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? 
Or wlio may dare on wold to wear 

The fairie's t'atal {rreen .' 

'• !Jp, Urgan, up ! to yon mortal hie. 

For thou wert christened man ; 
For cross or sign thou wilt not fly 

For muttered word or ban. 

" Lay on him the curse of the withered heart 

The curse of the sleepless eye ; 
Till he v/ish and pray that his life would part. 

Nor yet find leave to die." — 

XIV. 
BALLAD CONTINUED. 

rris merry, 'tis merry, in good green wood. 
Though the birds have stilled their singing 

The evening blaze doth Alice raise, 
And Richard is fagots bringing. 

Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf. 
Before Lord Richard stands, 

And, as he crossed and blessed himself, 
I fear not sign," quoth the grisly elf, 
" That is made with bloody hands." 

J at out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 

That woman void of fear, — 
' And if there's blood upon his hand, 

Tis but the blood of deer." — 

Now loud thou liest. tliou bold of mood ' 
It cleaves unto his hand. 



Canto IV. THE PROPHtlCY. « 

Tijo stahi of thine own kitully blood. 
The blood of Etlierl Brand. "— 

Then forward steppM she, ^Vlicc Brand, 

And made the holy siyn,— 
** And A' there's blood on iiichard's hand, 

A spotless hand is mine. ■ 

" And I conjure thee, Demon elf, 

By him whom Demons fear. 
To show us whence thou arl thyself? 

And what thine errand hero f ' — 

XV. 

BALLAD CONTINUED. 

" 'Tis merrv, 'tis merry, in Faiiy lana, 

When fairy birds are sinking-, 
VVhen the court doth riile by their monarch's sida 

With bit and bridle rimring. 

'•• And gayly shines the Fany land — 

But all is glistening show, 
Like the idle gleam that December's beam 

Can dart on ice and snow. « 

** And fading, like that varied gleam. 

Is our inconstant shape. 
Who now like kniirht and lady seem. 

And now like dwarf and ape, 

•*lt was betv/een the night and day, 

VVlien the Fairy King lias power, 
Tiiat I stink down in a sinful fray, 
And, 'twixt life and dcatii, was snatched away. 

To the joyless Elfin bowor. 

" But wist I of a woman bold, 

Who thrice my brow durst sign, 
1 might regain my mortal mold. 

As fair a form as thine." 



92 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 

She crossed him once — slie crossed him twice- 
Thai lady vvas so hr.ive ; 

The fouler irrevv his g'ohlin hue, 
The darlier irrevv the cave. 

She crossed him thrice, that lady bold: 

He rose beiioalh her hand 
The fairest knigiit on Scottish mold, 

Her Brother, Ethert Brand 1 

Merry it is in the good w-reen wood, 
VS'hen the mavis and merle are singing, 

liul merrier were they in Dunfermline gray, 
Wiicn all the bells were ringing. 

XVL 

Fust as the minstrel sounds were staid 

A slranger climbed the slee})y glade 

Flis martial step, his stately mien, 

His hunting suit of Lincoln green, 

His eagle glance, remembrance claims — 

'Tis Snowdoun's Knight, 'lis James Fitz-James. 

Ellen beheld as in a dream. 

Then starting, scarce supj^ressed a scream 

^'f) stranger', in such hour of fear, 

Wiiat evil hap ha.x brought thee here?" 

'• An evil hap. how can il be, 

That bids me look again on thoe.** 

By promise bound, my former guide 

Met me betimes this morning tidti, 

And marshal! d. over bank and bourne, 

The happy path oi' my return.''' — 

" The happy path I — what I said he nought 

Of war, of battle tp be fought. 

Of guarded {lass.'''' — ''No, by my faith 1 

Nor saw I aught could augur seatiie.''' — 

"Oh luiste tiiee, Allau, to the kerne, — 

Yonder his tartans 1 discern : — 

Learn thou his jturpose, a)ui conjure 

That he wdl guide tiie stranger sure ! — 



Canto IV. TilE PROPHECY. 93 

What prompted thee, unhappy man ! 
The meanest serJ' in Roderick's clan 
Had not been bribed by love or fear, ^^ 
Unknown to him, to guide tiiee iicro." 

xvn. 

*' Sweet Kllcn,-dear my life nmst be. 
Since it is worthy care from thee; 
Yet life I hold but idle breath, ^ 
When love or honour's weighed with death : 
Then let me profit by my chance, 
And speak my purpose bold at once, 
I come to bear thee from a wild. 
Where iieVr before such blossom smued ; 
By this seft hand to lead thee far 
From iVantic scenes of feud and war. 
Near Bochastle my horses wait ; 
They bear us soon to Stirling gale, 
ril place llieo in a lovely bower, ^^ 
ril <Tuard Uiee like a tender llower. 
^OT hush. Sir Knight! 'twere icmale art 
To say I do not read thy heart; 
Too much, before, my selfish ear 
Was idly soothed my praise to hoar. 
That fatal bait hath lured thee back, 
in dcathful hour, o'er dangerous track; 
And how, O how, can 1 atone 
The wreck my vanity brouglit *^" •— 
One way remains— I U tell him alt- 
Yes' strugo-ling bosom, forth it sriad . 
Thou, whose hght folly bears the blame. 
Buy tiiine own pardon with thy shame . 
But first— nvy father is a man 
Outlawed and exiled, under ban; 
The price of blood is on liis head. 
With me 'twere infamy to wed.— 
• Still would'st thus speak r then hear the trutu 
Fitz James, tliere is a noble youth,— 
If yet lie is ' — exposed for me 
An/J min«^ l-.Wreail extrrjnity 



94 LADY OF THE LAKE. Ctnto H 

Thou hast the secret of my lieart ; 
Forgive, be generous, and depart." — 

XVllI. 

Fitz-James knew every wily train 
A lady's fickle heart to gain, 
But here he knew and felt them vain. 
There shot no glance from Ellen's eye, 
To give her stcadt'asf si>eech the lie; 
Tn maiden confid(;nce she stood, 
Thougli mantled in luir cheek the hlood, 
And told her love with such a sigh 
Of deep and hopeless agony. 
As death had scaled her Malcolm's dooui. 
And she sat sorrowing on his tomb, 
'^tlope vanished from Fitz-.fame3''s eye, 
But not with hope fled sympatliy. 
Ho proffered to attend her side, 
As brother would a sister guide. — 
" O! little know'st thou Roderick's heart'' 
Safer for both we go apart. 
O haste thee, and from Allan learn, 
if thou may'.st trust yon wily kerne." — 
With hand upon lus forehead laid, 
The conflict ot^ his mind to shade, 
A parting step or two he made ; 
Then, as some thought had cros.sed his brain. 
He paused, and turned, and came again. 

XIX. 

•'Hear, lady, yet a parting word I — 
It chanced in fight that rny poor sword 
Preserved the life of Scotland's lord. 
This ring the grateful Monarch gave. 
And bade, when I had bo<in to crave, 
To bring it back, and boldly (;hV\in 
The recompcn.se that I would name. 
Ellen, I am no courtly lord, 
But one who lives by lance and swort). 



Car.lo IV. THE PROPHECY. 

Whose casllc is his liolin and shield. 

His lordship, the emiiaflled held. 

What troiM s. prince can I demand, 

Who neither reek of state nor land.-' 

Ellen, tliv hajid— the rin^r is thme ; 

Each gnard and usher knows the sign. 

Seek tiiou the king without delay, 

Die signet shall secure tiiy way ; 

And claim thy suit, whateer it be, 

\s ransom of his pledge to me. 

i-Ie placed the L'^olden circle on. 

Paused— kissed her hand— and then was goi,-^ 

The aged minstrel stood ajrhast, 

So hastily Fitz-.Iames shot past. 

He joined his gnide, and wendmg down 

The ridtres of llu^ mountain brown. 

\cross the stream they took their way. 

That joins Loch-Katrine to Achray. 

XX. 

Vll in the Trosach's glen was still, 
•Noontide was slec[)ing on tlie hill ' 
i'^udden his guide whooped loud and high— 
•* Murdocli ! was that a signal cry ?" 
He stammered forth,— ;^ 1 shout to scare 
Yon raven from his dainty fare.' 
He looked— he knew the raven's prey, 
His own brave steed :— ^^ Ah 1 gallant gray 
For thee, for me, perchance— "twere well 
Had we ne'er seen the Trosach's dell.— 
Murdoch, move first— but silently ; ^^ 
Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die — 
Jealous and sullen on they fared. 
Each silent, each upon his guard. 

XXI. 
■ Now wound the path its dizzy ledgo 
Around a precipice's edge, 
When lo 1 a wasted female form, 
Blighted by wratli of sun and storm. 



96 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto A* 

In tattered weeds and wild array, 

Stood on a clitl" beside the way. 

And glancing round her restless eye, 

Upon the wood, the rock, tlie sky, 

Seemed nought to mark, yet all to spy. 

Her brow was wroatliod with "audy Itroom ; 

With gesture wild she waved a {)lun)e 

Of feathers, which the ea<j;Ies fiing 

To crag and cliff from dusky wing; 

Such spoils her desperate step had sought. 

Where scarce was footing for the goat. 

The tartan plaid she first descried, 

And shrieked, till all the rocks replied ; 

As loud she laughed when near they drew, 

Fo*- *hen the lowland garb she knew ; 

And then her hands she wildly rung. 

And then she wepl, and then she sung. — 

She sung I — the voice, in belter time, 

Percliance to harp or lute might chime ; 

And now, though strained and roughened, sliij 

Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill. 

XXI i. 
SONG. 

They bid me sleep, they bid me pray, 

They say my brain is warped and wrung — 

I cannot sleep on highland brae, 
I cannot pray in Highland tongue. 

But v/ere I now where Allan glides, 

Or heard my native Dcvan's tides. 

So sweetly would I rest, and pray 

That Heaven would close my wintry day ! 

'Twas thus my hair they bade me braid. 

They bade me to the church repair; 
It wavS my bridal morn they said, 

And my true love would meet me there. 
But wo betide the cruel guile. 
That drowned in blood the morning smile 
And wo betide the fairy dream ! 
I only waked to sob and scream. 



Canto IV. THE PROPHLCY. 'J7 

XXIII. 

" Who is this maid ? wha4^ means her lay? 

Shi! hovers o'er the liollow way, 

And Hatters wide her rnajitle ^rray, 

As the lone heron spreads his wing, 

B}' twiliijht o'er a haunted sprini;.'" — 
'Tis Blanche of Devan," .Murdoch said, - 
A crazed and captive lowland maid, 

TaV.n on the morn she was a bride, 

Wjicn Roderick forayed Devan-side. 

The fjtiy bridegroom resistance made. 

And felt our chief's uncojiquered blade 

I marvel she is now at iar^e, 

But oft she 'scapes from Maudlin's charge.- 

Hence, brain-sick fool!" — He raised his bow •- 
"■ Now, if thou strickest her but one blow. 

ril pitch thoc from the cliff as far 

As ever peasant pitched a bar." — 

•' Thanks, champion, tlianks I" the Maniac cried 

And pressed her to Fit/.-.lames's side. 

'• See the gray pomons i prc[)are, 

To seek my true-love through the air I 

I will not lend that savage groom. 

To break his fall, one downy plume ! 

No I — deep amid disjointed stcmes, 

The wolves shall batten on his bones, 

And then shall his detested plaid, 

By bush and l)rier in mid air staid, 

Wave forth a banner fair ajid free, 

Meet signal for their revelry." — 

XXIV. 

'* Hush thee, poor maiden, and be still I" 
" O ! thou look'st kindly, and I will. — 
Mine eye has dried and wasted been. 
But still it loves the Lincoln green ; 
And, though mine ear is all tmstrung. 
Still, still it loves the lowland tongue. 

For O my sweet William was forester tru'r 
Fie stole jioor iJl mnhe's heart away ! 



98 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto IV 

flis coat it was all of the greenwood hue, 
And so bUlliely he trilled the lowland lay ! — 

Ft was not that I meant to tell — 

But thou art wise, and guesscst well."— 

Then, in a low' and broken tone, 

And hurried note, the song went on. 

Still on the Claiisinan, fearfully, 

She fixed her apprehensive eye ; 

Then turned it on the Knight, and then 

Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen. 

XXV. 

Tiie toils are pitched, and the stakes are set. 

Ever sing merrily, merrily ; 
The bows iliey bend, and the knives they whfot. 

Hunters live so cheerily, 
[t was a stag, a stag of ten,* 

Be.'-ing his branches sturdily ; 
He came .-tatciy down the glen, 

Ever sing hardily, hardily. 

It was there he met with a wounded doe; — 
She was bleeding dealhfully; 

She warned hiin of the toils below, 
O so taithfully. faithfully ! 

He had an eye, and he could heed, 
Ever sing waiiiy, warily ; 

Ho had a foot, and he could speed- 
Hunters watch so narrowly. 

XXVI. 

Fitz-James's mind was passion-toss'd, 
When Ellen's hints and fears were lost; 
But Murd(»clfs shout sus|>icion wrought, 
And Blanche's song conviction brought.'— 
Not like the slag that spies the snure, 
But lion of the hunt aware, 

* Having ten branches on his anuertt 



Canto IV. THE PROPHECY. i*» 

He waved at once his blade on high, 
'•' Disclose thy treachery, or die 1" — 
Forth at full speed the Clansman flew. 
Bat ill his race his bow he drew. 
The shaft just arazed Fitz-James's crest, 
And thrilled in' Blanche's faded breast.— 
Murdocii of Alpine I prove thy speed. 
For ne'er had Alpine's son such need ! 
With heart of fire, and foot of wind, 
Tlie fierce avenger is behind 1 
Fate judires of the rapid strife — 
The forfeit, death— the prize is life I 
Thy kindred ambush lies before, 
Close couched upon the heathery moor ; 
Them couldst thou reacli 1— it may not be— - 
Tlune ambushed kin tliou ne'er shalt see. 
The fiery Saxon gains on thee ! 
Resistless speeds the deadly thrust, 
As lin-htning strikes the pine to dust ; 
Witirfootand hand Fitz-.)ames must stram 
Ere he can win his blade agaiii, 
Bent o'er the fallen, with falcon eye. 
He grimly smiled to see him die; 
Then slower wended back his way, 
Where fhe poor maiden bleeding lav 

XXVIL 

She sate beneath the birchen tree. 
Her elbow resting on lier knee ; 
She had withdrawn the fatal shaft. 
And gazed on it, and feebly laiighM ; 
Iler wreath of broom and feathers gray, 
Dagiiled with blood, beside her lay. 
Theknight to stanch the life-stream tried, 
"• Stranger, it is in vain 1' she cried. 
" This hour of death has given me more 
Of reason's power than years before: 
For, as these ebbing veins decay, 
My frenzied visions fade away. 



100 LADY OF TffE LAKE. Canto IV 

A helpless injured wretch I die, 
And sometlihig tells me m thine eye, 
That thou wert mine avenger born. — 
Seest thou this tress.'' — O I siill I've worn 
Tills little tres.s of yellow hair. 
Through danger, frenzy, and despair ! 
It once was brlolii and clear as thine, 
But blood and tears have dininied its shine. 
I will not tell thee when 'twas shred, 
Nor from what guiltless victim's head — • 
My braiii would turn ! — but it shall wave 
Like plumaive on thy helmet brave, 
Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain. 
And thou wilt brini^ it me ayrain. — 
I waver still I — O God ! more bright 
Let Reason beam her parting light ! — 
O ! by thy knighthood's honoured sign, 
And for thy life preserved by mine, 
When thou shalt see a darksome man, 
Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's clan. 
With tartans broad, and shadowy plume, 
And hand of blood, and brow of gloom. 
Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong, 
And wreak poor Blanche of Devan's wronif; 
They watcli for thee by pass and fell — 
Avoid the paih — O God ! — farewell." 

XXVIIL 

A kindly heart had brave Fitz-.Iames ; 

Fast poured his eye at pity's claims. 

And now, with mingled grief and ire, 

[le saw the murdered maid expire. 

'' God, in my ne-ed, be my relief. 

As I wreak this on yonder Chief I" — 

A lock from Blanche's tresses fair 

He blended with her bridegroom's hair; 

The mingled braid in blood ho died, 

And placed it on his bonnet side; 

'•'" By Him whose word is truth I 1 swear. 

Mo other favour will I wear. 



Canto IV. THr: PROPHECY. lOJ 

Till this sad token 1 luiurL-e 

hi Jlu: bnst blood of Roderick Dhu ! — 

I^it liark 1 wiial jnoan.s yon faint halloo? 

T\w chase is up, — but they shall know, 

The slai,^ at bays a dangerous foe."" — 

Barr'd from the known but guarded way, 

Tlirongh cojise and cliff Fitz-Jaincs must slray- 

And oft must ch.mgo his desperate track, 

By .stream and precipice turned back. 

Heartless, fatiatied, and faint, at length, 

From lack of food and loss of strength, 

He couched him in a thicket hoar. 

And thought his toils a)id perils o'er: — 

" Of all my rash adventures past, 

This frautu; feat will prove the last I 

Who e'er so mad but might have guess'd, 

That all this liighiand hornet's nest 

Would UiUster up in swarms so soon 

As e'er they heard of bands at Doune ? 

Like bloodhounds now they search me oui.-- 

Hark I to the whistle and the shout ! — 

If further throufrh the wilds 1 go, 

I only fill ui)on the foe; 

I'll coucii u\e here till evening gray, 

Then darklmg try my dangerous way.'' — 

XXIX. 

The shades of eve come slowly down. 
The woods are wrapped in deeper brown, 
The owl awakens from her dell. 
The fo.x is heard upon the fell ; 
Enough remains of glimmering light 
To guide the wanderer's steps aright. 
Yet not enough from far to show 
His figure to the watchful foe. 
With cautions step, and ear awake. 
He climbs the crag and threads the brake ; 
And not the summer solstice there, 
Temper'd 'the midnight mountain air. 
But every breeze, that swept the wold. 
Benumbed his drenchwd limbs with cold. 



102 LADY OF THE LAKE. Catito IV 

In drijji!. in danjrcr, and alone, 

Fainii^iicd and ciiilled. throiigli ways unknown; 

Tangled and steep, he journeyed on ; 

Till, as a ror.k's liiige point he turned, 

A watch-fxre close before him burned. 

XXX. 

Beside it.^ embers red and clear. 

Basked, in his plaid, a mountaineer ; 

And up he sprung with sword in hand, — 

"• Thy name and purpose I Saxon, stand f — 

"■ A slraiiiier.'' — '•' What dost thou rofjuire ?"— 

" Rest and a jinide, and food and fire. 

My lile s beset, my path is lust, 

The gala has chilled fuy limbs with fro.st." 

"Art thou a friend to Roderick .^■" — " Nu." 

" TJiou darest not call thyself a foe ?"- - 

" I dare ! to him and all the hand 

He brings to aid his nuird-erous hand." — 

" Hold words 1 — but, though the beast of game 

The privilege of cliase may claim, 

Tlionoii space and law the stag wo lend. 

Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend, 

Who ever reck'd, where, l)ow, or when, 

The prowhng Jox was trapped or slain? 

Thus trea(;herous scouts, — yet sure they lie, 

Wiio say thon camesl a secret sjjv I" 

"They do, by heaven 1 — Come Roderick Dha. 

And of liis clan the boldest two, 

And let nic: bnt till murning rest 

I write the falsehood on their crest." — 

" If by the blaze I mark aright. 

Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight." 

" Then, by these tokens mayst thou know, 

F]ach pr')ud oppressor s mortal foe." — 

" Enough, enough ; sit down and. share 

A soldier s conch, a soldier s fare." — 

XXX L 

He rave him of his higldand cheer. 
The harieued llesh of mountain doer; 



Canto IV THE PROPHECY. 103 

DvY iuel on the fire he laid, 

And bade the Saxon share his plaid ; 

He tended liini like welcome guest, 

Then thus his furtlicr speech addressed, 

'' Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu, 

A clansman born, a kinsman true ; 

Each word against his honour spoke 

Demands of me avenging stroke; 

Yet more, — upon thy fate, 'tis said 

A mighty augury is laid. 

It rests with me to wind my horn, — 

Thou art with numbers overborne ; 

It rests with me, here, brand to brand. 

Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand ; 

But, nor for clan, nor kindred's cause, 

Will I depart from honour's laws : 

To assail a wearied man were shame, 

And stranger is a holy name ; 

Guidance and rest, and food and fire. 

In vain he never must require. 

Then rest thee here till dawn of day, 

Myself will guide thee on the way, 

Cer stock and stone, through watch and ward. 

Till past Clan- Alpine's outmost guard, 

As far as Coilantogle's ford ; 

From thence thy warrant is thy sword." — 

" I take thy courtesy, by Heaven, 

As freely as 'tis nobly given 1" — 

^- Well, rest thee ; for the bittern's cry 

Sings us the lake's wild lullaby."— 

Witii that he shook the gathered heath. 

And spread his plaid upon the wreath ; 

And the brave foemen, side by side, 

Lay peaceful down like brothers tried. 

And slept until the dawning beam 

Purpled the mountain and the stream. 

END OF CANTO FOlJftTCi 



THE 

LADY OF THE LAKE. 

CANTO FIFTH. 
THE COMBAT. 

I. 

FAIR as the earliest beam of eastern liglit, 

When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied 
[t smiles upon the dreary brow of night, 

And silvers o'er the torrent's foammg tide, 
And liohts the fearful path on mountain side , 

Fair°as that beam, although the fairest far, 
Givinc^ to horror irrace, to danger pride, 

Shiiie martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright ster. 
Through all the wreckful storms that cloud Uie 
brow of War. 

U. 

That early beam, so fair and sheen. 
Was twiniiling through the hazel screen, 
When, rousing at its glimmer red, 
The warriors left their lowly bed, 
Looked out upon the dappled sky, 
Muttered their soldier matins by, 
And then awaked their fire, to steal. 
As short and rude, their soldier meal. 
That o'er, the Gael* around him threw 
His graceful plaitl of varied hue, 
And? true to promise, led the way, 
By thicket green and mountain gray. 

* The Scouisli Highlander calls himself Gaei, oi fiiU-, 
fllKl terms the liowlanders, Sassenach, or Saxons 



106 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 

A wildoring path ! — they winded now 
Along the precipice's brow, 
Commanding the rich scenes beneath, 
The windings of the Forth and Teitlu 
And all the vales between that lie, 
Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky ; 
Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance 
Gained not the length of horbeman s lance. 
'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain 
Assistance from the hand to gain : 
So tangled oft, that, bursting through. 
Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew,— 
That diamond dew, so pure and clear, 
It rivals all but Beauty's tear I 

' III. 

At length they came where stern and steep. 

The hill sinks down upon the deep ; 

Here Vennachar in silver flows. 

There, ridge on ridge, Benledi rose. 

Ever the hollow path twined on, 

Beneath steep bank and threatening stone 

A hundred men might hold the post 

With hardihood against a host. 

The rugged mountain's scanty cloak 

Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak, 

With shingles bare, and clitfs between. 

And patches bright of bracken green, 

And heather black, that waved so high. 

It held the copse in rivalry. 

But where the lake slept deep and still. 

Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hili 

And oft both path and hill were torn. 

Where wintry torrent down had borne. 

And heaped upon the cumbered land 

Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand. 

So toilsome was the road to trace. 

The guide, abating of his pace, 

Led slowly through the pass's jaws, , . 

And asked Fitz-James, by what strange onuiw 



CftntoV. TItE COMBAT. 10'» 

He soutrht thesa wilds ; traversed by few. 
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu ? 

IV 

>' Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, 
Hano-s in my belt, and by ray side ; 
Yet.°sooth to tell," the Saxon said. 
•* I d'-eamed not now to claim its aid. 
When here, out throe days^ since, I came. 
Bewildered in pursuit of game, 
All seemed as peaceful and as still. 
As the mist slumbering on you hill ; 
Thv dangerous chief was then afar, 
Nor soon'expected back from war. 
Thus said, at least, my mountain guide. 
Though deep, perchance, the villain lied, 
" Yet°vhy a second venture try ?" — 
" A warrior thou, and ask me why !— 

Moves our free course by such fixed cause 

As oives the poor mechanic laws? 

Enough, I sought to drive away 

The lazy hours of peaceful day ; 

Slirrht cause will then suffice to guide 
-A knight's free footsteps far and wide - 

A falcon flown, a grayhound strayed. 

The merry glance of mountain maid ; 

Or, if a path be dangenius known, 

The danger's self is lure alone."— 

V. 

* Thy secret keep, I urge theo not ;— 
Yet, ere ao-ain ye sought lliis spot. 
Say, heard ye nougiit of lowland war, 
Acrainst Clan-Alpine raised by Mar? — 
u jl^o, by my word ;— of bands prepared 
To o-uard King James's sports I heard ; 
Nor^doubt I aught, but, when they hear 
This muster of the mountaineer, 
Their pennons will abroad be flung, ^^ 

Which else in Donne had jieaceful hunff. 



!08 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 

" Froe be tlicy i\nng I — for we wen; lotii 
Their silken iolds should feast the moth.. 
Free be they thing! — as free shall wave 
Clan-Alpine's pine in banner brave. 
Hut, stranirer, peaceful since you came 
bewildered in the mountain ^auie, 
Whence the bold boast by which you show 
V'ich- Alpine's vov/ed and mortal foe?" — 
•• Warrior, but yesler-niorn. I knew 
Nouirht of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dim, 
Save as an exiled desperate man, 
The chief of a n;beIlious clan, 
Who, in the Re^-ent's court and sii>ht,, 
With rulhnn dagirer Ktabt)ed a knight. 
Yet this alone mioht from his part 
Sever each true and loyal heart." — 

VI, 

Wrathful at such arraignment foul, 
Dark lowered tlie clansm;i.i''s sable scowl 
A space he paused, then sternly said. — 
'' And heardst thou why he drew his blade? 
Heard.st thou that shameful word aiul blow 
IJroughl Roderick's venc;cance on his toe.' 
What reck'd the Chieftain, if he stood 
On highland heath, or If 'jly-Rood .'' 
He riohts sucn wiong where it is given, 
If it were in the court of heaven." — 
•" Still-was it outrage ;- — yet, "tis true, 
Not then claimed sovereignty his due; 
While Albany, with feeble hand. 
Held borrowed truncheon of command. 
The young King, mew'd in Stirling tower. 
Was stranger to respect ami powtu-. 
But then, thy Chieftaiirs robber lite! — 
Winning mean prey ])y causeless >tnfe, 
Wrenchiuir iVotn ruin'd lowland swain 
His iierds and harvest reared in vain. — 
Methinks a soul, like thine, should sconi 
The spoils from such foul foray bo«ne.'' 



Canto V THE COMBAT- lOb 

Vll. 

The Gael beheld him grim the while, 

And answered vvilli disdainful smile, — 

" Saxon, from yondf r mountain high, 

I marked thee send delighted eye. 

Far lo the soulh and east, where lay, 

Extended in succession gay. 

Deep waving fields and pastures green, 

With gentle slopes and groves between * • 

These fertile plains, that softened vale. 

Were once the birthright of the Gael ; 

The stranger came with iron hand, 

And from our lathers reft the land. 

Where dwoi! we now! Sec rudely swell 

Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. 

As we this savage hill we tread. 

For I'attened steer or household bread ; 

Ask we for tiocks these shingles dry. 

And well the mountain might reply, — 

' To yovi, as to your sires of yore, 

Belong the target and claymore I 

I give you shelter in my breast. 

Your own o(»od blades nmst win the rest/-— 

Pent in lliis fortress of the North, 

Think'st thou we will not sally forth. 

To spoil the spoiler as we may. 

And liom the robber rend the prey.-* 

Ay, by my soul 1 — While on yon plain 

The Saxon rears one shock of grain; 

While, of ten thousand herds, there strays 

But one along yon river's maze, — 

The Gael, of plain and river heir. 

Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share. 

Where live the mountain chiefs who hold, 

That plundering lowland field and fold 

Is aught but retribution true? 

Seek other cause Vainst Roderick Dhu." 



110 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 

VIIL 

Answered Fitz-James, — " And, if I sought, 

Think'st thou no other could be brought f 

What deem ye of my path waylaid, 

My life given o'er to ambuscade?" — 

*' As of a meed to rashness due : 

Hadst thou sent warning fair and true, — 

I seek my hound, or falcon strayed, 

I seek, good faith, a highland maid, — 

Free hadst thou been to come and go — 

But secret path marks secret foe. 

Nor yet, for this, even as a spy, 

Hadst thou, unheard, been doomed to dies 

Save to fulfil an augury." — 

" Well, let it pass ; nor will I now 

Fresh cause of enmity avow. 

To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow 

Enough, I am by promise tied 

To match nrie with this man of pride : 

Twice have I souglit Clan-Alpine's glen 

In peace ; but, when I come agen, 

I come with banner, brand, and bow. 

As leader seeks his mortal foe. 

For lovelorn swain, in lady's bower. 

Ne'er panted for the appointed hour. 

As I, until before me stand 

This rebel Chieftain and his band." — 

IX 

" Have, then, thy wish !" he wliistled shriH 
And he was answered from the hill ; 
Wild as the scream of the curlew, 
From crag to crag the signal flew. 
Instant, through copse and heath, arose 
Bonnets and spears and bended bows ; 
On right, on left, above, below. 
Sprung up at once the hirking foe ; 
From shingles gray their lances start. 
The bracken-busli sends forth the dart, 



Canio V. THL COMBAT H! 

The rushes and the willow-wand 

Are bristling into axe and brand, 

And every tuft of broom gives life 

To plaided warrior armed for strife. 

That whistle garrisoiVd the glen 

At once with full five hundred men, 

As if the yawning hill to heaven 

A subterranean host had given. 

Watching their leader's beck and will, 

All silent°there they stood and still ; 

Like the loose crags whose thrcat'nmg mass 

Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, 

As if an infant's touch could urge 

Their headlong passage down the verge. 

With step and weapon forward flung, 

Upon the mountain-side they hung. 

The mountaineer cast glance of pride 

Along Beledi's living side. 

Then fixed his eye and sable brow 

Full on Fitz-Jaines— '• How say'st thou now 

These are Clan-Alpine"s warriors true ; 

And, Saxon,— I am Roderick Dhu '.' 

X. 

Fitz- James was brave -.—Though to his heart 

The hfe-blood thrilled with sudden start, 

He mann'd himself with dauntless air, 

Rctum'd the chief his haughty stare, 

His back against a rock he bore, 

And firmly placed his foot before . 

'^ Come one, come all I this rock shall tly 

From its firm base as soon as L" — 

Sir Roderick marked— and in his eyes 

Respect was mingled with surprise. 

And the stern joy which warriors feel 

In foemen worthy of their steel. 

Short space he stood— then waved his hand 

Down sunk the disappearing band ; 

Each warrior vanished where he stood. 

In broom or bracken, heath or wood , 



112 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 

Sunk brand and spear and bended bow, 

In osiers pale and copses low ; 

It seemed as if their mother Earth 

Had s\vallo\yed up her warlike birth. 

The wind's last breath had tossed in air, 

Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair, — 

The next bat swept a lone hill-side, 

VVhere heath and fern were waving wide; 

The sun's last glance was glinted back, 

From lance and glaive, from targe and jack.— 

The next, all unreflecled, shone 

On bracken green, and cold gray stone. 

XL 

Fitz-James looked round — yet scarce believed 

The witness that his sight received ; 

Such apparition well might seem 

Delusion of a dreadful dream. 

Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, 

And to his look the Chief replied, 

''Fear nought-r-nay, that T need not say — 

But — doubt not aught from mine array. 

Thou art my guest ; I pledged my word 

As far as Coilantogle ford : 

Nor would I call a clansman's brand 

For aid against one valiant hand, 

Though on our strife lay every vale 

Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. 

So move we on ; I only meant 

To show the reed on which you leant, 

Deeming this path you might pursue 

Without a pass from Roderick Dhu." 

They moved. — I said Fitz-James was brave. 

As ever knight that belted glaive ; 

Yet dare not say, that now his blood 

Kept on its wont and tempered flood. 

As. following Roderick's stride, he drew 

That seeming lonesome pathway through, 

Which yet, by fearful proof, was rife 

With lances, that to take his life 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. m 

Waited but signal from a guide. 
So late dishonoured and defied. 
Ever, by stea.Uh, his eye sought tomtA 
The vanished guardians of the ground. 
And still from copse and heather deep, 
Fancy saw spear and broadsword peep, 
And in the plover's shrilly strain, 
The signal whistle heard agam. 
N&r breathed he free till far behind 
TJie pass was left ; for then the wind 
Along a wide and level green, 
Where neither tree nor tuft was seen. 
Nor rush, nor bush of broom was near, 
To hide a bonnet or a spear. 

XII. 

The chief in silence strode before, 
And reached that torrent's sounding shore, 
Wliich, daughter of three mighty lakes, 
Froia Vennachar in silver breaks. 
Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 
On Bochastle the mouldering lines. 
Where Rome, the Empress of tlie world, 
Of yore her eagle wings unfurl'd. 
And hero his course the Chieftain staid, - 
Threw down his target and his plaid, 
And to the lowland warrior said :— 
'' Bold Saxon I to his promise just, 
Vich- Alpine has discharged his trust. 
This murderous chief, this ruthless man, 
This head of a rebellious clan. 
Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward 
Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. 
Now, man to man, and steel to steel, 
\ chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel. 
See, here, all vantagcless I stand, 
Armed, like thyself, with single brand; 
For this is Coilantogle ford. 
And thou must keep thco with thy sword. 
H 



114 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V. 

XIIL 

The Saxon paused : — " I na'^er delayed, 

When foeman bade me draw my blade ; 

Nay more, brave Chief, I vovv'd thy death : 

Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, 

And my deep debt for life preserved, 

A better meed have well deserv'd : 

Can nought but blood our feud atone? 

Are there no means?" "No, Stranger, none*. 

And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — 

The Saxon cause rests on tiiy steel ; 

For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred 

Between the living and the dead ; 

'■' Who spills the foremost foenian's life, 

His parly conquers in the strife.""— 

'•' Then, by my word,'* the Saxon said, 

" The riddle is already read. 

Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — 

There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. 

Thus Fate has solved her prophecy, 

Tlien yield to Fate, and not to me. 

To James, at Stirling, let us go, 

When, if thou wilt be still his foe, 

Or if the King shall not agree 

To grant thee grace and favour free, 

I plight mine honour, oath, and word. 

That, to thy native strengths restored. 

With each advantage shalt thou stand, 

That aids thee now to guard thy land."— 

XIV. 

Dark lightning flashed from Roderick's eyr.— 
" Soars thy presumption, then, so high. 
Because a wretched kerne ye slew. 
Homage to name to Roderick Dhu ? 
He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ! 
Thou add'st but fuel to my hate : — 
My clansman's blood demands revenge. — 
Not yet prepared ? — By heaven, I change 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. IIS 

My Ihoughl, and iiold thy valour llghl 
As that of some vain carpet kni^rht, 
Wlio ill deserved my courteous care. 
And whose best boast is but to wear 
A braid of his fair lady's hair.'" — 
— " 1 thatiii thee, Roderick, for the word I 
It nerves my heart, it steel* my sword ; 
For I have sworn this braid to stuin 
In \.he best blood that warms thy vein. 
Now, truce, farewell ! and ruth, be gonel-- 
Yet think not that by thee alone. 
Proud Chief 1 can courtesy be shown ; 
Thoug-h not from copse, or heath, or cairn. 
Start at my whistle clansmen stern. 
Of this small horn one feeble blast 
Would fearful odds against thee cast. 
But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt, 
We*try l])is quarrel iiilt to hilt." — 
Then each at once his falchion drew. 
Each on the ground his scabbard th,rew. 
Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain. 
As what they ne'er mii>ht see agaui ; 
Then, foot, and point, a.nd eye opjiosed. 
In dubious strife they darkly closed. 

XV. 

Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhu, 
That on the field his targe he threw, 
Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide 
Had death so often dashed aside; 
J'or, trained abroad his arms to W'eld, 
Fit/,-James"s blade was sword and shield. 
He practised every pasJ: and ward, 
To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; 
While loss expert, though stronger far. 
The Gael maintained unecjual war. 
Three times in closing strife they stood, 
And thrice the Saxon sword dranl; blood ; 
No stint(!d draught, no scanty tide, 
The ofushing liood the tartans died. 



116 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto 

Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, 
And showered his blows like wintry rain? 
And, as firm rock, or cristle-roof, 
Afjainsl the winter showor is proof, 
The foe invulnerable still 
Foiled his v/ild rairc by steady skill ; 
Till, at advantafrc ta'en, his brand 
Forced lloderick's weapon from his hand, 
And, backwards borne upon the lee, 
Brouglit the proud Chieftain to his knee. 

XVL 

" Now, yield thee, or, by Him who made 

The world, thy heart's blood dies my blade!"" 

'* Th\ throats, thy mercy, I defy I 

Let recreant yield who feaits to die." — 

Like adder darting from his coil, 

Like wolf that dashes tlirough the toil, 

Like mountain-cat who guards ^i*^" young, 

Full <ii Fitz-.himes's throat he sprung, 

Received, l)ut reck'd not of a wound, 

And locked his arms his foctnan round. — 

Now, irallant Saxon, hold Ihine own ! 

No tnaiden's hand is round thee throv.'n I 

That desperate ifrasp thy frame might feel, 

Thruuirh bars of brass and triple steel I 

They tug, they strain ; — down, down they g»j 

The Gael above, Fil/-Ja/nes below. 

Tlie Chieftain s gripe his throat compress'd, 

His knee was planted in his breast ; 

His clotted kx'ks he backward tlirew 

Across his brow his hand lie drew. 

From blood atid mist to clear his sight, 

Then gleam 'd aloft his dagger bright! — 

Rut hate and fury ill supplied 

The stream of life's exhausted tide, 

And all too late the advantage came. 

To turn the odds of deadly gaMie; 

For. while the dagger gleamM on high. 

Reeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. 11' 

Down came the blov I but in the heath 
Tlie erring blade found bloodless slieath. 
The struoo-ling' foe may now unclasp 
Tne fainting'- Chief "s relaxing grasp; 
Unvvounded from the dreadful close, 
But breathless all, Fitz-James arose. 

XVII. 

He faltered thanks to Fleaven for Hfe, 

Redeemed, unhoped, from desperate strife , 

Next on his foe his look he cast, 

Whose every gasp appeared his last : 

In Roderick's gore he dippM the braid, — 

" Poor Blanche 1 thy wrongs are dearly paid i 

Yet with thy foe must die, or live. 

The praise that Faith and Valour give." 

With that he blew a bugle-note. 

Undid the collar from his throat, 

Unbonneted, and by the wave 

Sate down his brow and hands to lave. 

Then faint afar are heard the feel 

Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet ; 

The sounds increase, and now are seen 

Four mounted squires in Lincoln green; 

Two who bear lance, and two who lead. 

By loosened rein, a saddled steed ; 

Each onward held his headlong course, 

And by Fitz-James reined up his horse, — 

With wonder viewed the bloody spot — 

— '^ Exclaim not, gallants ! question not — 

You, Herbert and LufTness, alight. 

And bind the wounds of yonder knight; 

Let the gray palfrey bear his weight. 

We destined for a fairer freight. 

And bring him'on to Stirling straight; 

I will before at better speed, 

To seek fresh horse and fitting weed. 

The sun rides high ; — I must bo boune 

To see the archer-game at aoo«: 



118 LADY OF THE LAKE. Cante V. 

But lightly Bayard clears the lea. — 
De Vaux and Hemes, follow me. 

XVIIl. 

" Stand, Bayard, stand !" — the steed obeyed. 

With arching neck and bended head. 

And glancing eye, and quivering ear, 

As if he loved his lord to hear. 

No foot Fitz-Jamcs in stirrup staid, 

No grasp upon the saddle laid, 

But wreathed his left, hand in the mane, 

And liglitiy bounded from the plain. 

Turned on Ihc horse his artned heel, 

And stirred l)is courage with the stee}. 

Bounded the fiery steed in air, 

The rider sate erect and fair, 

Then like a bolt from steel cross-bow 

Forth launched, along the plain they go. 

The}' dashed that rapid torrent through. 

And up Carhonie's hill tliey flow ; 

Still at the gallop pricked the knight, 

His merry-men followed as they might. 

Along thy banks, swill Teith 1 tliey ride, 

And in the race they mock thy tide ; 

Torry and Londrick now are past, 

And Deanstone lies beliind them cast. 

They rise, the liannercd towers of Doune, 

They sink in distant woodland soon ; 

Blair-Drumrnond sees the hoofs strike fire, 

They sweep like breeze through Ochterlyre ; 

They mark, just glance, and disappear 

The lofty brow of ancient Kier ; 

They bathe their coursers' swelling sides. 

Dark Forth! amidtiiy sluggish tides. 

And on the opposing shore take ground. 

With plash, with scramble, and with bound. 

Right hand they leave thy clitis, Craig-Forth '. 

And soon \hc bulwark of the North, 

Gray Stirling, with her towers and town. 

Upon 'their fleet career looked down. 



Canto / THE COMBAT. 119 

XIX. 

As up the flinty path they strained. 

Sudden liis sloed the U:ader reined ; 

A sioiKil to Ills squire ho fhing, 

"Who instant to his .-:tirrup sprung : 

" Seest tliou. Do. Vaux. yon woodman gray. 

WHio townward Ijohls the rocky way, 

or stature tali and poor array r' 

Market tiiou tlie lirni, yet active stride, 

Willi which he scales the mountain side ; 

Know'st thou from whence he comes, or whom •"'— 

" No, by my word ; — a burly urooni 

He seems, who in the field or chase 

A baron's train would nobly grace." — 

'- Out, out, De Vaux I can fear supply. 

And jeaio'isy, no sharper eye.'' 

Afar, ere to the hill he drew, 

That stately form and step I knew; 

Like form in Scotland is not seen. 

Treads not such step on Scottish greca. 

'Tis .lames of Douglas, by saint Serlo I 

The uncle of the banished Karl. 

Away, away, to court, to show 

The near approacii of dreaded foe : 

The king must stand upon his guard , 

Douglas and he must meet prei)ared." — 

Then right hand wheeled their sieeds, and straight 

They won the castle's postern gate. 

XX. 

riie Douglas, who had bent !iis way 

'"'rom Cambus-Kenneth's abbey gray, 
t.'fow, as he climbed the rocky shelf, 
Held sad communion wilh himself: — 
•' Yes I all is true my fears could frame 
A prisoner lies the noble Grajrne, 
And fiery Roderick soon will feel 
The vengeance of the royal steel. 
I, only I, cari ward their fate, 
God grant tlio ransom come not late ! 



120 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 

The abbess hath her promise given, 

My child sliall be tiie bride of lieaven ;- 

Be pardoned one repining tear ! 

For he, vvho gave iier, knows how dear 

How excellent — but ihat is by, 

And now my business is to die, 

— Ye towers ! within wliose circuit diead 

A Douglas by his soverei^i bled, 

And thou, O sad and fatal mound I* 

That oft hast heard tlie death axe sound, 

As on the noblest of the land 

Fell the stern headsman's bloody hand,— 

The dungeon, block, and na'.neless tomb 

Prepare, tor Douglas seeks his doom ! 

— But hark ! what bhthe and jolly peal 

Makes the Franciscan steeple reel? 

And see! upon the crowded street, 

In motley gi-oups that masquers meet! 

Banner and pageant, pipe and drum, 

And merry morrice-dancers come. 

[ guess, by all this q'uaint array. 

The burgliers hold their sports to day. 

James will be tiiere ; he loves such show, 

Wliere the good yeoman bends his bow. 

And the tough wrestler foils his foe, 

As well as where, in proud career. 

The high-born tilter siiivers spear. 

I'll follow to the Castle park. 

And pla3%'my prize : King James shall murlt.. 

[f age has tamed these sinews stark, 

Whose force so oft, in hapj)ier days, 

tlis boyish wonder loved to praise." 

XXI. 

The Castle gates were open flung. 
The quivering drawbridge rocked and rung. 
And echoed loud the tiinty street 
Beneath the coursers' clattering feet, 

* An eminence on the northeast of tlie castle, whorf siait^ 
criminals were executed. See Note. 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. VJA 

As slowly down the steep descent 

Fair Scotland's King and nobles went, 

Wliile all along tlie crowded way 

Was jubilee and loud huzza. 

And ever James was bending low, 

To his white jennet's saddle bow, 

Dolhng his cap to city dame, 

Wl/o smiled and blusiied for pride and shame. 

And well the simperer might be vain, 

He chose the fairest of the train. 

Gravely he greets each city sire, 

Commends each pageant's quaint attiro, 

Gives to the dancers tlianks aloud, 

And smiles and nods upon the crowd 

Who rend the heavens with their acclaims, 

'' Long live the Common's King, King James ■"'' 

Behind the King thronged peer and knight, 

And noble dame and damsel bright. 

Whose fiery steeds ill-brooked the stay 

Of the steep street and crowded way. 

But in the train you nnght discern 

Dark lowering brow and visage stern; 

There nobles mourned their pride restrained. 

And the mean burgher's joys disdained ; 

And chiefs, who, hostage for their clan, 

Were each from home a banished man, 

There thought upon their own gray towei 

Their waving woods, their feudal ])ower. 

And deemed themselves a shameful [>art 

Of pageant which they cursed in heart. 

XXII. 

Vow, in the Castle-park drew out 
Their checkered bands the joyous rout. 
There morricers, with bell al heel. 
And blade in hand, their mazes wheel ; 
But chief, beside the buts, there stand 
Bold Robin Hood and all his band, 
Friar Tuck with quarter-staff and cov.!, 
01c Pcethlocke with his surly scowl. 



.22 LAin OF THE LAKE. Canto V 

Maid Marian fair as ivory l>ona, 

Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John; 

Their bugles challenge all that will. 

In archery to prove their skill. 

The Doug-las bent a bow of might, — 

flis first shaft centred ui the white, 

And when in. turn he shot again, 

His second split tlie first in twain. 

From the King\s hand must Douglas take 

A silver dart, the archers' stake ; 

Fondly he watched, with watery eye, 

Some answering glance of sympathy, — 

No kind emotion made reply I 

Indifferent, as to arclier wigtit, 

Tiie Monarch gave the arrow bright. 

XXIIL 

Now, clear the Ring ! for, hand to hand, 
The manly wrestlers take their stand. 
Two o'er the rest superior rose, 
And proud dcmauded mightier .foes, 
Nor called in vain ; for Douglas came. 
— For life is Hugh of Larbert lame. 
Scarce better John of Alloa's fare. 
Whom senseless home his comrades bear. . 
Prize of the wrestling match, the King 
To Douglas gave a golden ring. 
While coldly glanced his eye of blue. 
As frozen drop of wintry dew. 
Douglas would speak, but in bis breast 
His strujrgling soul his words surpress'd : 
Indignant then he turned hiuj where 
Their arms the brawny yeoman bare, 
To hurl the massive bar in air. 
When each his utmost strength had shown. 
The Douglas rent an eartli-fast stone 
From its deep bed, then heav«!d it high, 
And sent the fragment through the sky, 
A rood beyond the farthest mark: — 
And still in StirUng's royai park. 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. 1^ 

The gray-haired sires, wiio know the past. 
To strangers point the Douglas cast, 
And niorahzc on the decay 
Of Scottish strength in modern day. 

XXIV. 

The vale with loud applauses rang, 
The Ladies' Rock sent back tlie clang, 
The king, with look unmoved, bestowed 
A purse well filled with pieces broad. 
Indignant smiled the Douglas proud, 
And threw the gold among the crowd 
Who nov;, with anxious wonder, scan. 
And sharper glance, the dark grey man ; 
Till whispers rose among the throng. 
That heart so free, and hand so strong. 
Must to the Douglas blood belong : 
The old men markd, and shook the head. 
To see his hair with silver spread. 
And winked aside, and told each son 
Of feats upon the English done. 
Ere Douglas of tbe stalwart hand 
Was exiled from his native land. 
The women praised his stately form. 
Though wrecked by many a wintery storm 
The youth with awe and wonder saw 
His strength surpassing nature's law. 
Thus judged, as is their wont, the crowd. 
Till murmurs rose to clamours loud. 
But not a glance from that proud ring 
Of peers who cintled rouiul the Kmg, 
With D<3Uglas held connnnnion kind. 
Or called the banished nsan to mind; 
No, not from tiiose who, at the chase, 
Once held his side the honoured place. 
Begirt his board, a?id, in the field, 
Found safety undernoatii his shield; 
For he, whom royal eyes disown, 
WJiea was his fonu to courtiers known-* 



124 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 

XXV. 

The Monai2h saw the gambols flag, 

And bade let loose a gallant stag, 

Whose pride, tlio holy day to crown, 

Two favourite griy-hoiuids should pull do^^Ti, 

That venison free, and Bourdeaux wine, 

Might serve the archer}' to dine. 

But Lufra, — whom from Douglas' side 

Nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide. 

The fleetest hound in all the North, — 

Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. 

She left the royal hounds midway, / 

And dashing on the anller'd })rey ; 

Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank, 

And deep the flowing life-blood drank. 

The King's stout huntsman saw the sport 

By strange intruder broken short, 

Came up, and with liis leash unbound 

In anger struck the noble hound. 

— The Douglas had endured, that mom. 

The King's cold look, the nobles' scorn. 

And last, and worst to spirit proud, 

f[ad borne the pity of the crowd; 

But Lufra had been fondly bred. 

To share his board, to watch his bed. 

And oft would Ellen, Lufra's neck, 

In maiden glee, with garlands deck ; 

They where such play -mates, that with name 

Of Lufra Ellen's image came. 

His stifled wrath is brinnning high, 

In darkened brow and flashing eye ; 

As waves befcJre the bark divide, 

1'he crowd gave way before his stride ; 

Needs but a buffet and no more, 

The groom lies senseless in his gore. 

Such blow no other hand could deal. 

Though gauntleted in glove of steel. 



C&nloV. THE COMBAT. 125 

XXVI. 
Clamoured his comrades of the tram. 
And brandished sword.s and staves aniaitu 
Hut stern the Baron's vvarninnr— " Back I 
Back on yonr hves, ye menial pack : 
Beware the Douolas.— Yes! behold, ^ 
Kini? James, the Douglas, doomed ol old. 
And vauily sou|Tht for near and far. 
A victim to atone the war, 
A willinuf victim, now attends. 
Nor craves thy grace but for his friends.'' 
— " Thus is my clemency re|)aid, 
Presumptuous Lord!'' the Monarch said; 
" Of thy mis-proud ambitious clan, 
Thou, James of Bothwell, \vert the man. 
The only man, in whom a foe 
My woman-mercy would not know 
But shall a Monarch's \)resence brook 
injurious blow, and liaaghty look:" — 
What ho 1 The Captain of our Guard! 
Give the offender fitting ward. — 
Break olTthe sports !"— for tumult rose, 
And yeomen 'gan to bend thsir bows, — 
-'Break oft' the sports l^'—hci said, and frowned. 
^ And bid our horsemen clear the ground ''- 

XXVIl. 

Then uproar wild and rnisarray 
Marr'd the fair form ot I'estal day. 
Tiie horsemen pricked amony the crowd. 
Repelled by threats and insult loud; 
To earth are borne the old and weak, 
The timorous tly, the women shriek; 
With flint, witii shaft, wiih statf, with bai. 
The hardier urge tumultuous war. 
At once round Douglas liarkly sweep 
Tfte royal spears in circle deep. 
And slowly scale the pathway stee^ , 
While on their rear in thunder pou? 
.The rabble with disordered roar. 



126 LADY OF THE LAKE. Ouito V 

With grief the noble Douglas saw 
The commons rise against the law, 
And. to tlie leading soldier said, — • 
" Sir John of Myndford ! 'twas my blade^ 
That kniglithood on thy shoulder laid ; 
For that good deed, permit me then, 
A word with these misguided men. — 

XXVIIL 

" Hear, gentle friends 1 ere yet, for rae, 

Ye break the bands of fealty. 

My life, my honour, and my cause, 

[ tender free to Scotland s laws ; 

Arc these so weak as must require 

The aid of your misguided ire? 

Or, i^f 1 suffer causeless wrong, 

Js then my selfish rage so strong. 

My sense of jtublic weal so low, 

Tiiat, for mean vengeance on a foe, 

Those chords of love 1 sliould unbind, 

Which knit my country and my kind.'' 

Oh no ! Believe, in yonder tower 

It will not soot|i my captive hour. 

To know those spears our foes should dread, 

For me in kindred gore are red; 

To know in fruitless brawl begun. 

For me, that mother wails her son; 

For me, that widow's mate expires, 

Fijr me, that or})hans weep their sires. 

Tliat patriots mourn insulted laws. 

And curse the Douglas for tlie cause. 

O let your patience ward such ill. 

And keep your right to love rne still I"— 

XXIX- 
The crow'd's wild fury sunk agahi 
In tears, as tempests molt in rain. 
With lifted hands and eyes, t.hey prayed 
For blessings on his generous head, 
Who for his country felt alone, 
And prized her blood beyond his own. 



Canto V. THE COMBAT. IST 

Old men, upon the verfvc of life, 

Blessed him who stayed tlic civil strife ; 

And mothers held tluiir babes on high 

The self-devoted chief to spy, 

Triumphant over wrong and ire. 

To whom the prattlers owed a sire : 

Even the rough soldier's heart was moved, 

As if behind some bier beloved, 

With trailing arms and drooping head. 

The Douglas up the hill they led, 

And at the castle's battled verge, 

With sighs, resigned thoir honoured charge, 

XXX. 

The ollended monarch rode apart, 
With bitter thought and swelling heart, 
And would not now vouchsafe again 
Through Stirling streets to lead his train. 
" O Lennox, who would wish to rule 
This changeling crowd, this common fool 1 
Hear\st thou," he said, " the loud acclaim, 
With which they shout the Douglas name ? 
With like acclaim, the vulgar throat 
Strained for King James their morning note ; 
With like acclaim they hail the day 
When first I broke the Douglas sway ; 
And like acclaim would Douglas greet, 
If he could hurl me from my seat. 
Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, 
Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain ? 
Vain as the leaf upon the stream. 
And fickle as a changeful dre.ini ; 
Fantastic as a woman's mood, 
And fierce as frenzy's fevered blood. 
Thou many-headed monster-thing 
O who would wish o be thy king '. — 

XXXI. 

' B .' soft! what messenger of spoef! 
S\y, . hitherward his uanting steuii t 



128 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 

1 guess his cognizance afar — 
What from our cousin, John of Mar?" 
'' He prays my liege, your sports keep bound 
Within the safe and guarded ground : 
For some foul purpose yet unknown, — 
Most sure for evil to the throne, — 
riie outlawed Chieftain, Roderick Dbu, 
Mas summoned his rebellious crow ; 
Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid 
These loose banditti stand arrayed. 
The Earl of Mar, this morn, from Doune. 
To l)reak their muster marched, and soon 
•Your grace will hear of battle fought; 
But earnestly the Earl besought, 
Till for such danger he provide, 
Willi scanty train you will not ride." — 

XXtll. 

' Thou warn'st me I have done amiss,— 
[ should have earlier looked to this ; 
[ lost it in this bustling day. 
—Retrace with speed thy former way; 
Spare not for spoiling of thy steed. 
The best of mine shall be thy meed. 
Say to our faithful Lord of Mar, 
We do forbid the intended war ; 
Roderick this morn, in single fi^ht. 
Was made our prisoner by a knight, 
And Douglas hath himself and cause 
Submitted to our kingdom's laws. 
The tidings of their leaders lost 
Will soon dissolve the mountain host, 
^or would we that the vulgar feel, 
Por their Chief's crimes, avenging steel. 
Bear Mar our message, Braco, fly." — 
He turned his steed, — " My liege, I liie. 
Yet, ere I cross this lily lawn, 
f fear the broad-swords will be drawn."— 
The turf the flying courser spurned. 
And to his towers the king returned. 



Canto V. THE COxMBAT. 12& 

XXXIII. 

Dl with King James's mood that day, 
Suited gay feast and minstrel lay ; 
Soon were dismissed the courtly throng; 
And soon cut short the festal song. 
Nor less upon the saddened town 
Tiie evening sunk in sorrow down : 
The burghers spoke of civil jar, 
Of rumoured feuds and mountain war. 
Of ]\ioray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, 
All up in arms : — ihe Douglas too. 
They mourned him pent within the hold, 
" Where stout Earl .William was of old,"* 
And there his word the speaker stayed. 
And finger on his lip he laid, 
Or pointed to his dagger blade. 
But jaded horseman from the west, 
At evening lo the castle pressed ; 
And busy talkers said they bore 
Tidings of fight on Katrine's shore ; 
At noon the deadly fray begun, 
And lasted till the set of sun. 
Thus giddy rumour shook the town, 
Till closed tiie Night her pennons brown. 

• Stabbed by James II. m Stirling CaatlC 



fc*:D OP CANTO FIPTIL 



THE 

LADY OF THE LAIiE- 

CANTO SIXTH. 
THE GUARD- ROOM. 

1. 

THE sun, awakening, through the smoky air 

Of the dark city casts a sullen glance, 
Rousing each caitiff to his task of care, 

Of sinful man the sad inheritance ; 
Summoning revellers from the lagging; dance. 

And scaring prowling robbers to their den; 
Gliding on battled tower the warder's lance, 

And°warning student pale to leave his pen. 
And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men 

What various scenes, and, 1 what scenes of wo. 

Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam 
The fevered patient, from his pallet low, 

Through crowded hospitals beholds it stream ; 
The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam, ^ 

The debtor wakes to thoughts of gyve and jail, 
The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream*, 

The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale, 

Trims her sick infant's couch and sootlis his iae 
ble "Wail. 

n. 

At dawn the towers of Stirling rang, 
With soldier-step and weapon clang. 
While drums, with rolling note, foretell 
Relief to weary sentinol- 



132 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto V 

Through narrow loop and casement barr'd 
The sunbeams sonirht the Court of Guard, 
• And strugfrhng with the smoky air, 
Deadened the torches' yellow glare, 
in romfortlcss alhance shone 
The lights through arch of blackened stone 
And sliowed wild shapes in garb of war. 
Faces deformed witJi beard and scar, 
All haggard from the midnight watch, 
And fe\'ered with the stern debauch; 
For the oak table's massive board, 
Flooded with wine, with fragments stored. 
And beakers drained, and cups o'erthrown. 
Showed in what sport the night had flown. 
Some, weary, snored on floor and bench ; 
Some laboured still their thirst to quench ; 
Some chilled with watching, pj)rcad their hands 
O'er the huge chimney's dying brands, 
While round them, or beside tliem flung, 
At every step their harness rung. 

IIL 

These drew not for their fields the sword, 

Like tenants of a feudal lord, 

Nor owned the patriarchal claim 

Of chieftain in their leader's name ; 

Adventurers they, from far who roved, 

To live by battle which they loved. 

There the Italian's clouded face, 

Tiie swarthy Spaniard's there you trace; 

The mountain-loving Switzer there 

More freely breathed in mountain-air ; 

1'he Fleming there despised the soil, 

That ))aid so ill the labourer's toil; 

riio rolls showed French and German name, 

And nierxy England's exiles came, 

'I'o share, with ilJ-Concea.led disdain, 

Of Scotia f'd'f pa^' the scanty gain. 

All brave in aruis, well trained to wielu 

The heavy hal'^ert, brand, and shieUi '- 



v'anto VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 133 

In cainj)s licentious, wild and bo!j 
In pillage fierce and unconlrollea, 
And now, by liolylidc and feast, 
From rules of discip'ino released. 

IV. 

They hold debate of bloody fray, • 

(•'ought twixt Loch-Katrine and Achray. 

Fierce was their speech, and, mid their words. 

Their hands oft grappled to their swords; 

Nor sunk their tone to spare the ear 

Of woundod comrades groaning near. 

Whoso mangled limbs, and bodies gored, 

Hore token of the mountain sword, 

Though, neighbouring to the court of guard. 

Their prayers and feverish wails were heard? 

Sad burden to tiie ruffian joke, 

And savage oath by fury spoke! — 

At length up started John of Brenl, 

A yeoman from the banks of Trent; 

A stranger to respect or fear, 

[n peace a chaser of the deer, 

In host a hardy mutineer, 

Hut still the boldest of the crew, 

When deed of danger was to do. 

Me grieved, that day their games cut short. 

And niarr'd the dicers' brawling sport, 

And shouted loud, "Renew the bowl 1 

And, while a merry catch I troll, 

Let each the buxom chorus bear, 

L.ko brethen of the brand and spear." — 

V. 
SOLDIER'S SONG. 

Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule 
l^aid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown 

bowl, 
■^^iiat there's wrath and despair in the jolly bkwsi'i 

jack, 
And the .seven deadly sius in a flagon of «ack' 



134 LADY OF THE LAKE Canto VI 

Yet whoop, Barnaby ! off with thy liquor ! 
Drink upsees* out, and a fig for the vicar ! 

Our vicar he call? it damnation to sip 
The ripe ruddy dew of a woman's dear lip. 
Says, that Belzebub lurks in her kerchief so sly. 
And Apollyt)n shoots darts from her merry blaci 

eye; 
Yet whoop. Jack ! kiss Gillian the quicker, 
Till she bloom like a rose, and a fig for the vioar I 

Our vicar thus preaches — and why should he not' 
For the dues of his cure are the placket and pot? 
And 'tis right of his office poor laymen to lurch. 
Who infringe the domains of our good mother 

Church, 
Yet whoop, bully-boys ! off with your liquor. 
Sweet Marjorie's the wora, and a fig for thi 

vicar ! 

VL 

The warder's challenge, heard without, 

Stayed in mid roar the merry shout. 

A soldier to the portal went, — 

" Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent; 

And, beat for jubilee your drum ! 

A maid and minstrel with him come." — 

Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarr'd. 

Was entering now the court of guard, 

A harper with him, and, in plaid 

All muffled close, a mountain maid. 

Who backward shrank to 'scape the view 

Of the loose scene and boisterous crew. 

' What news?" they roared : — " I only know. 

From noon till eve we fought with foe, 

As wild and as untameable. 

As the rude mountains where they dwell. 

On both sides store of blood is lost. 

Nor much success can either boast." — 

*\ HaoihaRiiliarv intorjcction, borrowed from the Duteb 



Canto VI. THE GUARL-ROOM. i* 

•' But whence thy captives, friend ? Sue h spoil 
As theirs must needs reward thy toil. 
Old dost thou wa.K, and wars grove sharp ; 
Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp, 
Get thee an ape, and trudge the land. 
The lcadery)f a juggler band."— 

VII. 

"No, comrade;— no such fortune .nnie. 
After the fight, these sought our line. 
That aged harper and the girl,^ 
.A.nd, having audience of the Earl, 
Mar bado I should purvey them s-tcod. 
And bring them hitherward with speed. 
Forbear your mirth and rude alarm, 
For none shall do them shame or harm." 
•' Hear ye his boast r' cried John of Brent, 
Fver to strife and jangling bent, — 
" Shall he .strike doe beside our lodge. 
And yet the jealous niggard grudge 
T :> pay the forester his fee .'' 
Fl: have rny share howe'er it be. 
Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee."' — 
Bertram his forward step withstood; 
And, burning in his vengeful mood, 
Old Allen, though unfit for strife, 
i^aid hand upon his dagger-knife ; 
But Ellen boldly stepped between. 
And dropped at once the tartan screen. 
So, from his morning cloud, appears 
The sun of May, through sunwiner tears. 
The savage soldiery, amazed. 
As on descended angel gazed ; 
Even hardy Brent, abashed and tamed, 
Stood half admiring, half ashamed. 

VIII. 

Boldly she spoke :—'' Soldiers, ailerid 
M/ father was the srldicFs friend : 



136 I.ADY OF THE LAKL. Cantv* V 

Cheer'd hhn in camps, in marches led. 

And with him in the battle bled. 

Not from the valiant or the strong. 

Should exile's daughter suffer ^rong,"- 

Answercd De Brent, most forward still 

In every feat or good or ill — 

" I shame me of the part I played ; 

And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid ! 

An outlaw I by Forest laws. 

And merry Needwood knows the cause. 

Poor Rose, — if Rose be living now," — 

He wiped his iron eye and brow, 

" Must bear such age, I think, as thou.— 

Hear ye, my mates ; — I go to call 

The captain cf our watch to hall: 

There lies my halbert on the floor; 

And he that steps my halbert o'er. 

To do the maid injurious part, 

My shaft, shall quiver in his heart I — 

Bew.are loose speech, or jesting rough : 

Ye all know John de Brent. Enough." — 

IX. 

Their ca])tain came, a gallant young,- • 
(Of Tullibardine's house he sprung :) 
Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight; 
Gay was his mien, his humour light 
And, though by courtesy controlled, 
Forward his speech, his bearing bold. 
The highborn maiden Wi could brook 
The scanniuff of his curious look 
And dau illess eye; — and yet, in sooth. 
Young Lewis was a generous youth ; 
Rut Ellen's lo^/ely face and mien. 
Ill-suited to the garb and scene. 
Might lightlv bear construction strange, 
And give loose fincy scope to 'iinge. 
—"Welcome to Stirling tov.'v,'^ , fair maid 2 
Como ye to seek a champion's aid. 



Canto V\. THE GUARD-ROOM. 137 

On paJfrey white, with harper hoar, 

tiikc errant clamosel of yore ? 

Does thy high quest a knight require ? 

Or may the venture suit a squire?'' — 

Her dark eye llash'd ; — slie paused and sighed, 

" O what Jiave I to do with pride ! — 

— Through scenes of sorrow, shame, aiid strije, 

A suppliant for a father's life, 

I crave an audience of the King, 

Behold, to back my suit, a ring, 

The royal pledge of grateful claims. 

Given by tiie Monarch to Fitz-Jaines."— 

X. 

The signet ring young Lewis look. 
With deep respect and altered look; 
And said, — " This ring our duties own; 
And pardon, if, to worth unknown, 
In semblance mean obscurely veiled, 
Lady, in aught my folly failed. 
Soon as the day flings wide his gates. 
The King sliali know what suiter wails. 
Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bower 
Repose you till his waking hour; 
Female attendance shall obey 
Your best for service or array. 
Permit I marshal you the way." — 
But, ere she followed, with the grace 
And open bounty of her race. 
She bade her slender purse be shared 
Among the soldiers of the guard. 
The rest with thanks their guerdon tool 
But Brent with sly and awkward look 
On the reluctant maiden's hold 
Forced bluntly back the proflered gold ; 
*' P^orgive a hauglity English lieart. 
And O forget ils ruder parti 
The vacant purse shall be my share. 
Which in my barrat-cap V\\ bear. 



138 LADY OF TflE LAKE. Canto VI 

Perchance, in jeopardy of war, 
VViiere gayer crests may keep afar." — 
With thanks, — 'twas all she could,- -the majd 
His merged courtesy repaid. 

XI. 

When Ellen forth with Lewis went, 
Allan made suit to John of Brent : — 
" My lady safe, O let your grace 
Give me to see my master's face ! 
His minstrel i, — to share his doom 
Bound from the cradle to tlie tomb. 
Tenth in descent, since first my sires 
Waked ibr his noble house their lyres, 
Nor one of all the race was known 
But prized its weal above tneir own. 
With the Chiefs birth begins our care ; 
Our harp must sooth the infant heir, 
Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace 
His earliest feat of field or chase ; 
In peace, in war, our rank we keep, 
We cheer his board, we sooth his sleep. 
Nor leave him till we pour our verse, 
A doleful tribute I o'er his liearse. 
Then let me share liis captive lot ; 
ft is my right — deny it not !" — 
'^ Little we reck," said .John of Brent, 
" We Southern men, o^ long descent 
Nor wot we how a name — a word- 
Makes clansmen vassals to a lord : 
Yet kind my noble landlord's part, — 
rod bless the house of Beaudesert . 
And, but I loved to drive the deer, 
More than to guide the labouring steer^ 
1 had not dwelt an outcast here. 
Come, good old Minatrel, follow mo; 
Thy Lord arid Chieftain shalt tiiou see.,'" 

xn. 

rijen, from a rusted iron hook, 

\ bunch of ponderous keys he took. 



Canto VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 139 

Lighted a torch, and Allan led 

Through ;rrated arch and passage dread. 

Portals they passed, where, deep witluri. 

Spoke prisoner's moan, and fetters' din ; 

Throagli rugged vaults, where, loosely stored. 

Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword. 

And many a hideous engine grim 

For wrenching joint, and crushing limb. 

By artists formed, who deemed it shame 

And sin to give their work "a name. 

They halted at a low-browed porcli, 

And Brent to Allan gave the torch, 

While bolt and chain he backward rolled. 

And made the bar unhasp its hold. 

Tliey entered : — 'twas a prison-room 

Of stern security and gloom, 

Yet not a dungeon ; for the day 

Tiirough lofty gratings found its way, 

And rude and antique garniture 

Decked the sad walls and flirty floor. 

" Mere," said De Brent, " thou may'st rciniun ;'- 

And then, reiiring, bolt and chain, 

And rusty bar he drew again. 

Housed at the sound, from lowly bed 

A captive feebly raised his head ; 

The wondering Minstrel looked, and knew- 

Not his dear lord, but Roderick Dhu» 

For, come from where Clan- Alpine foug'it. 

They, erring, deemed the Chief he souglit. 

XIIL 

As the tall ship, whose lofty proro 
Shall never stem the billows more, 
■ )eserted by her gallant band, 
\xi}'A tlie breakers lies astrand, — 
S.J, on his couch, lay Roderick Dhv ' 
And oft his fevered limbs he threw 
In toss abrupt, as When her sidos 
Lie rocking in the advancing tides. 



140 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto Vl 

That shake her frame with ceaseless beat, 

Yet caniioL heave her from her seat ; — 

O I how nnhke her course on sea ! 

Or his free step on hill and lea I — 

Soon as the Minstrel he could scan, 

— '"• What of thy lady ? of my clan ? — 

My mother? — Douglas? — tell me all ! 

Have they been ruined in my fall ? 

Ah, yes ! or wherefore art thou here? 

Yet speak, — speak boldly, — do not fear.'"— 

(For Allan, who his mood well knew, 

Was choked with grief and terror too.) — 

" Wiio fought — who fled? — Old man, be brief - 

Some might — for they had lost their Chief. 

Who basely live? — who bravely died ?" — 

" O, calm tiiee, Chief!" the Minst"el cried, 

" Ellen is safe;'' — " For that, thank heaven I" 

" And hopes are for the Douglas given ; — ■ 

The Lady Margaret too is well, 

And, for thy clan, — on field or fell, 

Has never harp of minstrel told, 

Of combat fought so true and bold. 

Thy stately pine is yet unbent. 

Though many a goodly bough is rent." 

XIV. 

The Chieftain reared his form on high, 
And fever's fire was in his eye ; 
But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks 
Checkered his swartl^y brow and cheeks. 
— " Hark, Minstrel 1 I have heard thee play 
With measure bold on fesial day, 
In yon lone isle, — again where ne'er 
SliaU harper play, or warrior hear, — 
That stirring air tliat peals on high, 
O'er Dermid's race our victory. — 
Strike it ! — and then, (for well thou canst ] 
Free from fny miiistrel-spirit glanced. 
Fling me the picture of the light. 
When met my clan the Sa.\f>n miglit 



Canto VI. THE .GUARD-ROOM. U] 

I'll listen, till n)y fancy hears 

The clang of swords, the crash of speart. : 

Tiiese grates, tliese walls, shall vanish then, 

For the fair field of fiyhting men. 

And my free spirit burst away, 

As if it soared from battle fray." 

The trembling bard with awe obeyed, — 

Slow on the harp his hand he laid ; 

T3ut soon remembrance of the sight 

He witnessed from the mountain's height. 

With wliat old Bertram told at night. 

Awakened the full power of song, 

AiJfl bore him in career along :— 

As shallop launched on river's tide, 

That slow and fearful leaves the side, 

But, when it feels the middle stream, 

Drives downward swift as lightning's beaa 

XV. 

BATTLE OF BjEAL' AN DUINE 

•' The Minstrel came once more to view 
The eastern ridge of Benvenue, 
For, ere he parted, he would say 
Farewell to lovely Loch-Achray— 
Where shaU he find, in foreign land, 
So lone X lake, so sweet a strand '. 
There is no breeze upon the fern. 

No ripple on the lake, 
Upon her eyrie nods the erne. 

The deer has sought the brake ; 
The small birds will not sing aloud, 

The springing trout lies still. 
So darkly glooms yon thunder cloud. 
That swathes, as with a purple shroud 

Bcnledi's distant hill. 
Is it the thunder's solemn sound 
That mutters deep and dread, 
Or echoes from the groanin<» ground 
Tlie warrior's measured tread ^ 



U2 LADY OF THE L<AKE. Cauto VI 

Is it the lightninof's quivering glance 

That on the thicket streams, 
Or do they flash on spear and lance 
The sun's retiring beams: 
I see the dagger-crest of Mar, 
\ see the Moray's silver star, 
Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war. 
That up the lake comes winding far 1 
To hero bcune for battle-strife. 

Or bard of martial lay, 
'Twcre worth ten years of peaceful life. 
One glance at their array. 

XVI. 

" Their light-armed archers far and near 

Surveyed the tangled ground, 
Their centre ranks, with pike and spear. 

A twilight forest frowned; 
Their barbed horsemen, in the rear, 

The stern battalia crowned. 
No cymbal clashed, no clarion rang. 

Still were the pipe and drum ; 
Save heavy tread, and armour's clangs 

The sullen march was dumb. 
There breathed no wind their crestf. to siiako. 

Or wave thoir flags abroad ; 
Scarce tbe frail aspen seemed to quake. 

That shadowed o'er their road. 
Their vaward scouts no tidings bring. 

Can rouse no lurking foe, 
Nor spy a trace of living thing, 

Save when they stirred the roe ; 
The host moves hke a deep sea wave. 
Where rise no rocks its pride to brave, 

High swelling, dark, and slow. 
The lake is passed, and now they gair 
A i^arrow and a broken plain. 
Before the Trosach's rugged jaws ; 
And here the horse and spear-man pause. 



Canto VL THE GUARD-ROOM 143 

VVliile, to explore the dangerous glen, 
Dive tlirough the pagsihe archer-men. 

XVII. 

" At once there rose so wild a yell 
Within that dark and narrow dell, 
As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, 
Had peeled the banner-cry of hell ! 

Forth from the pass in tumult driven. 

Like chaff before the wind of heaven, 
The archery appear : 
For life ! for life 1 their flight they ply— 
And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry, 
And plaids, and bonnets waving high, 
And broadswords flashing to the sky. 

Are maddening in their rear. 
Onward they drive, in dreadful race, 

Pursuers and pursued ; 
Before that tide of flight and chase. 
How shall it keep its rooted place. 

The spearsmen's twilight wood? 
— ' Down, down,' cried Mar, ' your lances down ' 

Bear back both friend and foe !' 
Like reeds before the tempest's frown. 
That serried grove of lances brown 

At once lay levell'd low ; 
And closely shouldering side to side, 
The bristling ranks the onset bide. — 
— ' We'll quell the savage mountaineer. 

As their Tinchel* cows the game I 
They come as fleet as forest deer, 

We'll drive them back as tame.' - 

XVIII. 

*' Bearing before them, in tlieir course. 
The relics of the archer force, 

♦A circle of sportsmen, who by surrounding a great spacr , 
and gradually nariowinp, brought immense quantitiea ol 
.ieer together, which usually made deepfiralc effortc tr 
Veai? Uiroach the Tinchel 



144 LADY OF THE LAKE. Caiito VI 

Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, 
llight onward did Clan-Alpine come. 
Above their tide, each broadsword bria^h* 
Was brandishing like bcajx> of light, 

Plach targe was dark below ; 
And with the ocean's mighty swing, 
When heaving to the tempesfs wing, 
They hurled them on the foo. 
]heard tlie lance's shivenng crasli, 
As when the whirlwind rends the ash ; 
r heard the broadsword's deadly clang. 
As if a hundred anvils rang 1 
But Moray wheeled his rearward rank 
Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine's flank, — 

— ' My banner-man, advance I 
I see,' he cried, ' their column shake : — 
Now, gallants ! for your ladies' sake, 

Upon them with the lance !' — 
The horsemen dashed among the route , 

As deer break through the broom ; 
Then steeds are stout, their swords are out 

They soon make lightsome room. 
Clan-Alpine's best are backward borno- 

Where, where, was Roderick then.'' 
One blast upon bis bugle-horn 

Were worth a thousand men. 
■ And refluent through the pass of fear 

The battle's tide was pour'd ; 
Vanished the Saxon's struggling spear. 

Vanished the mountain sword. 
As Bracklinn's chasm, so black and steep. 

Receives her roaring linn, 
As the dark caverns of the deep 

Suck the vv'ikl whirlpool in, 
So did the deep and darksome pass 
Devour the battle's mingled mass, 
None linger now upon the plain, 
Save those who ne'er shall fight asfaip 



0%nto VI. THE GUARD R.OOM. lii 

x;> 

- No.v westward rolls th3 baU e .sdm. 
That deep and doubling pass witlvn. 
Minstrel, away ! the work of fate 
Is bearing on Tits issue wait, 
Where the rude Trosach's dread defile 
Opens on Katrine's lake and isle. 
Gray Benvenue I soon repassed, 
Loch-Katrine lay beneath me cast. 

The sLUi is set : — the clouds are me*. 
The lowering scowj oi neAVcn 

An inky hue of livid blue 
To the deep lake has given ; 
Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen 
Swept o'er the lake, then sunk agen. 
I heeded not tlie eddying surge, 
Mine eye but saw the Trosach's gorge, 
Mine ear but heard that sullen sound. 
Which like an earthquake shook the ground 
And spoke the stern and desperate strife 
That parts not but with parting life 
Seeming, to minstrel-ear, to toll 
The dirge of many a passing soa.. 
Nearer it comes — the dim-wood gler. 
The martial flood disgorged agen. 

But not in mingled tide ; 
The plaided warriors of the Nortli, 
High on the mountain thunder fortir. 

And overhang its side ; 
VVhile by the lake below appears 
The iarkening cloud of Saxon spearsi. 
At weary bay each shattered band, 
Kying their foeman, sternly stand ; 
Their banners stream like shattered soi;, 
That flings its fragments to the gale, 
And broken arms and disarray 
Marked the fell havoc of the dav. 
K 



146 LADY OF THE LAKE. Cantn V} 

XX. 

"■ Viewing the mountaiirs ridge askancw. 
The Saxons stood in sullen trance. 
Till Moray pointed with his lance, 
And cried — *■ Behold yon isle ! — 
See I none arc left to g\;ard its strand. 
But women weak, that wring the hand : 
'Tis there of yore the robber band 

Their booty wont to pile ; 
My purse, with bonnet-pieces store, 
To him will swim a bow-shot o'er. 
And loose a shallop from the shore. 
Lightly we tame the war-wolf then. 
Lords of his mate, and brood, and den.' — 
Fortli from the ranks a spearman sprung. 
On earth Jiis casque and corslet rung, 

He plunged him in the wave : — 
All saw the deed — the purpose knew. 
And to their clamours Benvenue 

A mingled echo gave ; 
The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer, 
The helpless females scream for fear, 
And yells for rage the mountaineer. 
'Twas then, as by the outcry riven. 
Poured down at once the lowering lieaven; 
A whirlwind swe})t Loch-Katrine's breast. 
Her billow reared his snowy crest. 
Well for the swiujmer swelled it high, 
To mar the highland )iiarksman's eye; 
For round liim showered, mid rain and hail, 
The vengeful arrows of the Gael. — 
In vain. — He ncars the isle — and lo! 
His liand is on a shallop's bow. 
— .Just then a flash of lightning came, 
It tinged the waves and strand with flame;-- 
I marked I)unci.'aggarfs widowed damr. 
Behind an oak 1 saw her stand. 
Her husband's dirk gleamed in her hanf\ 
It darkened — but amid the moan 
Of waves, I heard a dying groan;— 



CaiitoVI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 14' 

Another flash 1 — the spearman floats 
A weltering corse beside the beats, 
And the stern Matron o'er him stood. 
Her hand and dagger sti ■•aming blood, 

XXI. 

" Revenge ! revenge !" the Saxons cried 
Tlie Gael's exulting shout replied, 
Despite the elemental rage, 
Again they hurried to engage ; 
Rut, ere they clos'd in desperate fight, 
Bloody witii spurring came a knight. 
Sprung from his horse, and from a crag. 
Waved 'twixt the hosts a milk-white flag,. 
Clarion and trumpet by his side 
Rung forth a truce-note high and wide, 
While, in the monarch's name, afar 
A herald's voice forbade the war ; 
For Bothwelfs lord, and Roderick bold, 
Were both, he said, in captive hold." — 
But here the lay made sudden stand, 
The harp escaped the minstrel's hand ! 
Oft bad he stolen a glance, to spy 
How Roderick brooked his minstrelsy : 
At first, the Chieftain, to the chime,- 
With lifted hand, kept feeble tune; 
That motion ceased — yet feeling strong, 
/aried his look as changed the song; 
At length, no more his deafened ear 
The minstrel melody can hear; 
His face grows sharp, liis hands are clenched. 
As if some pang his heart-strings wrenched ; 
Set are his teeth,— his fading eye 
Is sternly fixed on vacancy. 
Thus, ni'otionless, and rnoanlcss, drew 
His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu! 
Old Allan-bane looked on aghast, 
While grim and still his spirit passvrd ; 
But when he saw that life was fled, 
He poured his wailing o'er the dead. 



148 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VI 

XXII. 

LAMENT. 

*'An€l art thou cold, and lowly laid, 
Thy roeiiian's dread, thy people's aid, 
Breadalhaiio's boast, Clan-Alpine's shade! 
For thee shall none a requiem say? — 
For thee, who loved the minstrel's lay, 
For thee, of Bothwell's house the stay, 
The shelter of her exiled line, — 
E en in this prison-house of thine, 
V\\ wail for Alpine's honoured pine ! 

" What groans shall yonder valleys fill ! 
What shrieks of grief shall rend yon hill * 
What tears of burning rage shall tlirill. 
When mourns thy tribe thy battles done. 
Thy fall before the race was won, 
Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun ! 
There breathes not clansman of thy line. 
But would have given his life for thine. — 
O wo for Alpine's honoured pine ! 

•'- Sad was thy lot on mortal stage I — 
The captive thrush may brook the cage. 
The prisoner eagle dies for rage. 
Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain ! 
And when its notes awake again, 
Even she, so long beloved in vain, 
Shall with my harp her voice conjbinc. 
And mix her wo and tears with nnne. 
To wail Clan- Alpine's honoured pme." — 

XXIII. 

Ellen, the while, with bursting iieart. 

Remained in lordly bower apart. 

Where played, witii many-coloured gleams, 

Tlirough storied pane the rising beams. 

In vahi on gilded roof they fall, 

\nd lightened up a tapestried wall. 



Canto VL. THE GUARD-ROOM. J ^9 

And for lier us<? a menial tram, 

A ricli collation spread in vain. 

The banquet proud, the chamber gay, 

Scarce drew one curious jnfiance astray; 

Or if she looked, 'twas but to say, 

\Vith better omen dawn'd the day 

In that lone isle, where waved on high 

The dun deer hide for canopy, 

Where oft her noble father shared 

The simple meal her care prepared, 

While Lufra. crouching by her side, 

Her station claimed with jealous pride. 

And Douglas, bent on woodland gG.rae, 

Spoke of the chase to Malcolm-Grasme, 

Whose answer, oft at random made, 

'^'.; wandering of his thoughts betrayed — 

Those who such simple joys have knovvii. 

Are taught to prize them when tliey're gone. 

But sudden, see, she lifts her head I 

The window seeks with cautious tread. 

What distant music has the power 

To win her in this woful hour ! 

'Tvvas from a turret that o'erhung 

Her latticed bower, the strain was sung. 

XXIV. 

LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HV? ""«MrtJ>i 

My hawk is tired of perch and hood. 
My idle greyhound loathes his food, 
My horse is weary of his stalls 
And I am sick of captive thrall. 
I wish I were us I have been. 
Hunting the hart in forests green : 
With bended bow and blood-hound free 
Tor that's the life is meet for me. 

I hate to learn the ebb of time 
From yon dull steeple's drov. sy diime ; 
Or mark it as tlie sunbeams crawl. 
Inch after inch along the wall. 



150 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VI. 

The lark was wont my matins ring", 
The sable rook my vespers sing ; 
These towers, althougli a king's they be. 
Have not a hall of joy for me. 

No more at dawning morn I rise, 
And Sim myself in Ellen's eyes, 
Drive the fleet deer the fo/est through, 
And homeward wend with evening dew ; 
A blithsoine welcome hllLhely meet. 
And lay my trophies at her feet. 
While fled the eve on wing of glee — 
That life is lost to love and me 1 

XXV. 

The heart-sick lay was hardly said, 

The list'ner had not turned her head, 

U trickled still, the starting tear, 

When light a footstep struck her ear. 

And Snowdoun's graceful knight was neai. 

She turned the hastier, lest again 

The prisoner should renew his strain. 

'• O welcome, brave Fitz- James !" she said ; 

'' How may an almost orphan maid 

Pay the deep debt." — " O say not so! 

To me no gratitude you owe. 

Not mine, alas! the boon to give, 

And bid thy noble father live ; 

1 can but be thy guide, sweet maid. 

With Scotland's King thy suit to aid. 

No tyrant he, though ire and pride 

May lead his better mood aside. 

(^)me, Ellen, Come! — 'tis more than tin^a^ 

He holds his court at morning prime." — 

With beating heart, and bosom wrung. 

As to a brother's arm she clung. 

Gently he dried the falling tear. 

And gently whispered hope and cheer, 

Her faltering step-> half led, half stayed, 

Through gallery lair and high arcade. 



Ctmio VL THE GUARD-ROOM. 151 

rill, at his touch, its wings of pride 
A portal arcli unfolded wide. 

XXVI. 

Within 'twas bvilliant all and light, 

A thronging scene of figures bright ; 

U glowed on Ellen's dazz'.ed sight, 

As when the setting sun has given 

Ten thousand hues to summer even, 

And from their tissue fancy frames 

Aerial knights and fairy dames. 

Still by Fitz-James her footing stayed , 

A few faint steps she forward made, _ 

Then slow her drooping head she raisca. 

And fearful round the presence gazed ; 

Kor him she sought, who owned this stale, 

The dreaded prince whose will was fate '.— 

She gazed on many a princely port, 

Mitrht well have ruled a royal court; 

(^M^Tianv a splendid garb she gazed,— 

Then turned bewildered and amazed, 

For all stood bare ; and, in the room, 

Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. 

To him each lady's look was lent. 

On him each courtier's eye was bent ; 

Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen, 

He stood, in simple Lincoln green, 

The centre of the glittering ring,— . 

And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland s Kiiip 

XXVII. 

As wreath of snow on mountain breast. 

Slides from the rock that gave it rest, 

Poor Ellon glided from her slay. 

And at tiie Monarch's feet she lay ; 

No word her clioking voice commands,— 

She showed the ring,— she clasped her hai^rts. 

O ! not a moment could he brook. 

The generous prince, that suppliant look ! 



152 LADY or THE LAKE. Canto VI 

Gently he raised her, — and the while 
Checked vvitli a glance the ch'cle's smile; 
Graceful, but grave, her brow ho kissed. 
And bade her terrors be dismissed ; — 
" Yes, Fair; the wandering poor Fitz-James 
The fealty of Scotland claims. 
To him thy woes, thy wisiies, bring, 
He will redeem his signet ring. 
Ask nought for Douglas ; — yester even, 
His prince and he have much forgiven : 
Wrong hath lie had from slanderous tongue 
[, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong. 
We would not to the vulgar crowd 
Yield what they craved with clamour loud . 
Calmly we heard and judged his cause. 
Our council aided and our laws. 
»[ snatched thy father's death-feud stern. 
With stout Do Vaux and gray Giencairn ; 
And Bothwell's Lord henceforth we own 
The friend and bulwark of our Throne. 
But, lovely infidel, how now? 
What clouds th}^ misbelieving brow ? 
Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid ; 
Thou must confirm this doubting maid." 

XXVIIL 

Then forth the noble Douglas sprung, 

And on his neck his daughter hung. 

The Monarch drank, that happy hour, 

The sweetest, holiest draught of power,— 

When it can say, with godlike voice, 

Arise, sad virtue, and rejoice ! 

Yet would not James the general eye 

On nature's raptures long should pry ; 

He stepp'd between — *■' Nay, Douglas, na , 

Steal not my prn.selyte away I 

The riddle "tis my right to read, 

That brought this happy chance to 

Yes, Ellen, when disguised I stray, 

In Uib's more low but happier way. 



(^anto VI. THE GUARD-KOOM. ISS 

Tis under name which veils my power, 
Nor falsely veils — for Stirling's tower 
or yore the name of Snowdoun claims, 
Aud Normans call me James Fitz-Jainos. 
Tims watch I o'er insulted laws, 
Thus learn to right the injured cause I" — 
Then in a tone apart and low, 
— ^" Ah. Uttle trait'ress ! none must know 
What idle dream, what lighter thought. 
What vanity full dearly bought, 
i Joined to thine eye's dark witchcraft, drev." 
My spell-bound steps to Benvenue 
In dangerous hour, and all but gave 
riiy Monarch's life to mountain glaive I"— 
Aloud he spoko — ^" Thou stiil dost hold 
That little talisman of gold, 
Pledge of my faith, Fitz- James's ring — 
What seeks Fair Ellen of the King.'" 

XXIX. 

Full well the conscious maiden guessed. 

He probed the weakness of her breast; 

But, with that consciousness, there came 

A lightening of her fears for Graeme, 

And more siie deemed the Monarch's iro 

Kindled 'gainst him, who, for her sire. 

Rebellious broadsword boldly drew ; 

And to her generous feeling true, 

She craved the grace of Roderick Dhu. — 

" Forbear thy suit : — the King of kings 

Alone can stay life's parting wings. 

I know his heart, I l?now hir. hand. 

flave shared his cheer, and proved his hrarr4 ; • 

My fairest earldom would I give 

To bid Clan-Alpine's Chieftain live! 

Hast thou no other boon to crave.' 

No other captive friend to save ?" — 

Blushing she turned her from the King. 

And to the Douglas gave the ring, 



154 LADY OF THE LAKE. Canto VL 

As if she wished her sire to speak 
The suit that stained her glowing check — 
" Nay, then, my pledge has lost its force, 
And stubborn justice holds her course, 
■^lalcolm, come forth !" — And, at the word, 
)own kneePd the Gra;me to Scotland's Lord. 
* For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues, 
From thee may Vengeance claim her dues, 
Who.lmrtured underneath our smile, 
Has paid our care by treacherous wile, , 

And sought, amid thy faithful cian, 
A refuge for an outlawed man. 
Dishonouring thus thy loyal name. — 
Fetters and warder for the Graeme 1" — 
His chain of gold the King unstrung, 
The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung. 
Then gently drew the glittering band, 
\nd laid the clasp on Ellen's hand. 



HAS.P of the North, Farewell ! The hills grov* 
dark, 

On purple peaks a deeper shade descending ; 
In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark. 

The deer, half-seen, are to the covert wending. 
Resume thy wizard elm I the fountain lending. 

And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy ; 
TV numbers sweet with Nature's vespers blending 

With distant echo from the fold and lea, 
Aud herdboy"s evening pipe, and hum of housing 
bee. 

Yes once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp! 

Ifet, once again, forgive my feeble sway, 
And little reck I of the censure sharp 

May idly cavil at an idle lay. 
Much have i owed thy strains on life's long vay. 

Through sficret woes the world has never k«!0<»^^ 



Utt^nto VI. TOE GUARD- ROOM. L5: 

When .-n tlie weary night dawned wearier day. 

And bitterer was the grief devoured alone. 
That I o'crlive such woes, Enchantress 1 is thine 
own. 

Hark 1 as my lingering footsteps slow retire, 

Some snh-it of the Air has waked thy string • 
'Tis now a Seraph bold, with touch of fire, 

'Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing. 
Receding now, the dying numbers ring 

Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell, 
And now tJie mountain breezes scarcely bVing 

A wandering witch-note of the distant spell — 
Aiid now, 'tis silent all! — Enchantress, fare the* 
well' 



RNn or CANTO SUTfciU. 



NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 



Note I. 

The heights of Uam-var, 

And roused the cavern wheie 'tis fold 
A giant made his den of old. Stanza iv. line 3- 
I'a var, as thi! name is pioiiouiiced, or more properly 
Uai'rh-ntor, is auiouiiiuin lo the norllieast of llie village oi 
Cal'ender in Menieitli, derivins its name, wliicli sign. Iii's lit 
cr.-at den, or cavern, from a so-t of retreat among the rocks 
r.n 'he south side, said by tradition to have been the abode 
of a "iant. In latter times it vva>i the refuge of robbers and 
banditti, who have been only extirpated within these lorty 
or tifiy years. Strictly speaking, this strong hold is not a 
cave as the name would imply, but a sort of sniall inclo- 
<ure or recfss, surrounded with large rocks and open above 
head Ft mav have been originally designed as a toil for 
deer who might get in from the outside, but would find il 
difficult to return. This opinion prevails among the old 
sportsmen and deer-stalkers in the neighbourhood. 

Note II. 
Two dogs of black St. Hubert's breed, 
Unmatched for courage, strength, and speed. 

Stanza vii. lino 7 
" The hounds which we call Saint Hubert's iiounds, are 
ponimonly all blacke, yet ncuertheless, their race is so min 
gled at liiese days, that wc find them ot all colors. These 
are the hounds vvhich the abbots of St. Hubert haue always 
kept some of their race or kind, in honor or rem-mbrance 
of the saint, which was a hunter with St. t^usiace. VVlieie- 
upon we may conceiuo that (by the grace of Goo) all goo(! 
huntsmen shall follow them into paradise. To rcturne vnto 
my former purpose, this kind of dogges hath bcene dispersed 
through the countries of Heiiault, Lorayne, Flanders, and 
Riireovne They are mighty of body, neuertheless then 
le"iies'are low and short; likewise tliey are not swift, al- 
tlimi''h ihcv be very good of sent, hunting chaces winch 
are fane straggled, fearing neither water nor cold, and dne 
more couet the chaces that smell, as foxes, bore, and such 
like, than other, because they find themselues neither ol 
swiftness nor courage to hunt and kill the chaces that are 
liffhter and swifter. The b'.oudhonnds of this color prooue 
good, erspecialiv those that are coleblncke. but I make no 



I»9 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 

great account to bieede on tlicm, or to keepe the kind, and 
yet I found a booke which a hunter did dedicate to a prince 
of Lorayne, wiiich seemed to loue liuntiiig much, wlierein 
was a blason which thesame hunter gaue to his bloudhound, 
called Souyllard, which was wlhile : 

My name came first from holy Hubert's race, 
Souyllard my sire, a hound of singular grace. 

Whereupon we may presume that some of the kin/ 
prooue white sometimes, but they are not of the kind ol 
the Greftiers or BouxfSs v/inch we haue at these dayes."— 
The JVoble Art of Venerie or Hunting, translated and col 
lected for the ilsc of all JVobleinen and GeuLlcmen. Lond 
!Gn 4. p. 15. 

Note in. 
For the death 70ound, and death holloo. 
Mustered his breath, his ichinyard drew. 

Stanza viii. line?. 

When the stag turned to bay, the ancient hunter had the 
perilous task of going in upon, and killing or disabling the 
desperate animal. At certain times of the year this was 
hold particularly dangerous, a wound received from a stag's- 
horns being then deemed poisonous, and more dani;eroii? 
than one from the tusks of a boar, as the old rhyme testifies 

If thou be hurt with hart it brings thee to thy bier 
But ttarber's hand will bore's hurt heel, thereof tlion needs 
not fear. 

At all times, however, the task was dangerous and to he 
advenuired upon wisely and warily, cither by getting behind 
the stas while he was gazing on thehoun.fs, or by watcliitig 
an opportunity to gallop roundly in upon hiii!, and kill him 
with the sword. See many directions to t'iiis purpose in the 
Booke of Hunting, chap. 41. Wilson, the historian, has 
recorded a providential escape which bcfeh him in this 
hazardous sport, while a j'outh and follower of the earl of 
Essex. 

" Sir Peter Lee, of Lime in Cheshire, invited my lord one 
summer to hunt the stagg. And having a gn at siagg in 
cnace, and many gentlemen in the pursuit, the stags; ttiok 
soyle. And divers, whereof I was one, alighted, and stood 
with svvoidsdrawne, to have a cut at him, at hiscomitigou? 
of the water. Tlie staggs, there, being wonderfully fierce 
and dangerous, made us youths more eager tf; be at him 
But he escaped us all. And it was m'' atisfortune to be 
hindered of my coming iiere him, the wny being sliperie, bv 
a fall ; which gave occasion to some who did not know me, 
to speak as if I had falne for feaie. Which being told me, 1 
left the stagg, and followed the gentleman who [first | epoke 



NOTES TO CAjNTO FIRST. 158 

It. But I found liini of that cold icniper, that it seems hie 
words niadi' an escape from liini ; as by his denial and re 
pentance it appeared. Kiit this made met- more violent in 
pursuit*; of the stag?, to recover my reputation. And I hap- 
pened to be the only horseman in, vvlien the dogs seit him 
up at bay ; and approaching nere him on iiorseback. Iiee 
broke llirough the dogs, and run at me, and tore my horse's 
side with his lioriies. close by my thigh. Then I quitted my 
horse and grew more cunning (for the dogs had sctte him 
up againe,) stealing behind him witli my sword, and cut hiB 
liam-strings; and llien got upon his back, and cut histliroat; 
which as I was doing, the company came in, and blamed 
my rashness for running sucii a hazard."' — Peck's Deside- 
rata Curiosa, II. 4G4. 

Note IV. 
jSvd noro to issue from the glen 
J^o pathway meets the wanderer's ken, 
Unless he climb, with footing nice, 
A far projecting precipice. Stanza xiv. line 1. 

tfntil the present road was made through the romantic 
pass which I have presumptuously attempted to describe in 
the preceding stairzas, there was no mode of issuing out of 
the defile, called the Trosachs, excepting l>y a sort of ladder 
composed of the branches and roots of the trees. 

Note.V. 

To meet with highland plunderers here 

fVere worse than loss \jf steed or deer. St. xvi. line 13 

The clans who inhabited the romantic regions in the 
neighbourhood of Loch-Katrine, were even until a late 
period, much addicted to predatory excursions upon then 
lowland neigiibours. 

" In former times, those parts of this district, which aie 
situated beyond the Grampian range, were rendered almost 
inaccessible, by strong barriers of rocks and mountains, ano 
lakes It was a bolder country, and though on the ver 
verge of the low country, it was almost totally sequestered 
from the woild, and as it were, insulated with respect to 
Bociety- 

"'Tis well known, that in the highlands, it was, in for 
mcr times, accounted not only lawful, but honourable among 
hostile tribes, to commit df predalions on one another ; and 
these habits of the age were perhaps strengthened in thib 
district, by the circumstances which have been nHntinned. 
It bordered on a country, the inliabitants of which, while 
they were richer, were less warlike than they, and widelt 
differenced by language and mSnners." Grahain's Skttcka 
of Scenery in Perthshire. Edin. 1805, p. 07 



m NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 

The reader will therefore be pleased to remember, tbat 
the scene of this poem is laid in a lime 

VVtien tooKiing faulds, or sweepin;; of a glen 
Had still been held the deed of gallant men- 
Note VI. 

•^ ffray-haireil sire, whose eye intent, 

Was on the visionary future bent. Stanza xxiii. line 7. 

if force or evidence could authorize us to believe facts in 
couoisient with the general laws of nature, enough might be 
produced in favour of the existence of the Second Sight. W. 
is called in Gaelic Taishitaraugh, from T:iish, an unreal or 
shadowy appearance, and those possessed of the faculty are 
call Taishatrin, which may be aptly translated visionaries. 
Martin, a steady believer in the second sight, gives the fol- 
lownig accoum of it. 

' ' The second sight is a singular facultyof seeing an other- 
wise invisible object, without any previous means used by 
the person that uses it for that etid ; tiie vision makes such a 
lively impression upon the seers, that they neither see, not 
think of any thing else, except the vision, as long as it con- 
tinues ; and then they appear pensive or jovial, according 
to the object which was reptesented to iheni. 

" At the sight of a vision, the eyelids of the person are 
erected, and the eyes continue staring, until the object van- 
ish. This is obvious to others who are by, when the persons 
happen to see a vision, and occurred more than once to my 
own observation, and to others that were with me. 

"There is one iii Skie, of whom his acquaintance ob 
served, that when he !?ees a vision, the inner pari of his eye^ 
lids, turns so far upwards, that after the object disappears, 
ho nrasl draw them down with his fingers, and sometimes 
employs others to draw them down, which he finds to he 
the much easier way, 

" This faculty of the second-sight does not lineally descend 
in a family, as some imagine, for I know several parents 
who are endowed with it but their children not, and via 
versa. • neither is it acquired by any previous compact. 
And, after a strict inquiry, I could never learn, that this 
faculty was communicable any w;iy whatsoever. 

" The seer knows neither the object, time, nor place of a 
vision, before it appears ; and the san:e object is often seen 
by different persons, living at a considerable distance from 
one another. The true way of judging as to the tune and 
circumstance of an object, is by observation ; for several 
persons of judgment, without this faculty, are more capable 
to judge of the design of a vision, than a novice that \^ a 
seer. If a.n object appear in' the day or night, it will cmr^ 
to pass sooner or later accordingly. , 



NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. Ifi> 

♦' ll an object is seen early in the morning, (which is nol 
frequent,} it will be accomplished in a fowliours afterward 
If at noon, it will be commonly accomplished lliat very day. 
If in the evening, perhaps tliat night ; if after candles he 
lighted, it will be accomplished that night: the latter always 
in accomplishment, by weeks, rnontlis. and sometimes 
years, according to the time of ni:.;lit the vision is seen. 

" When a sinoudis perceived al)out one, it i.? a sure prog- 
noseic ot' death : tiie lime is judged accordmg to tlie heiglil 
of it about the person ; for if it is not seen above the middle, 
dentil is not to be expected for the space of a year, and per 
iiaps some munihs longer ; and as it is frequently seen to 
ascend liighi-r towards the head, death is concluded ro be ai 
hand wiiliin a lew days, if not liours, as daily e.xpericnce 
confirnjs Examples of this Ivind were shown me, when tlie 
person of wlioin tl8«' «)b£ervation were then made enjoyed 
perfect health. 

" One instance was lately foretold by a seer that was a 
novice, concerning the death of one of n.y acquaintance: 
this was communicated to a few only, and with gnat confi 
dence ; I being one of the number did not in the least regard 
it, until tiic deatliof the person abcut the time; foretold, did 
confirm mo of the certainly of the prediction. The novice 
mentioned above is now a sicilful seer, as appears from 
many latt; in>tances; he lives in the parish of St. Mary's 
the most noriliern in Skie. 

" If a woman is seen standing at a man's left hand, It is a 
presage that she will be iiis wife, wiietrier they be married 
to others, or unmarried at the time of tlie apparition. 

"If two or three women are seen at once near a man's 
left liand, she tiiat is next him will undoubtedly be his wife 
first, ai)d so on, whether all three or the man be single or 
married at the time of the vision or not ; of which there are 
several late instances among those of my acquaintance. If 
is an ordinary thing for them to see a man that is to come 
to the house shortly after ; and if he is noi oi the seer's ac- 
qui^intaiice, yet he gives such a lively description of ids 
stature, coiiiple-xion, habit, &c. tliat upon Ins arrival he 
answers the character given him in all resjjects. 

" If the person so appearing he one of the seer's acquaint 
ance, iie will tell his name, as well as other particulars, 
and he can tell by iiis countenance wliether he comes in a 
good or bad humour. 

" I have been seen thus myself by seers of both se.xes, at 
some Imiidred miles' distance ; some that saw jne in tliis 
manner, had never seen me personally, and ii haiipened 
according to then' visimis, without any previous design ol 
mine to go to those places, my coming there being purely 
accuientai. 

"It i? ordinary with them to see houses, gardens, and 
treea in places void of all three: and tiiis in progress of thne 
Ll 



»t« NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 

OSes to be accomplished : as at Mogshoi, in the isle of Skie, 
where there were but a few sorry cowhouses, thatched 
with snaw, yet in a few years after, the vision, which ap 
peared often, was acconiplislied, by the building of several 
good houses en the very spot represented by the seets, and 
by the planting of orchards there. 

" To see a spark of fire fall upon one's arm or breast, is a 
forerunner of a dead cluld to oe seen in the arms of tliose 
persons; of which there are several fresh iiistances, 

''To see a seat empty at the time of on«'*s silting in it, is 
a presage of that person's death soon after. 

" When a novice, or one that has lately obtained the 
second sight, sees a vision in the night-time without doors, 
and comes near a fire, he presently falls inio a swoon. 

" Sume find themselves as it were in a crowd of people, 
having a corpse whicli they carry along with them ; and 
after such visior.s the seers come in sweating and describe 
the people that appeared: if there be any of their acquaint 
ancc among 'em, iliey give an account of their names, as 
also of the bearers, but they icnow nothing concerning llie 
corpse. 

" All those who have the second-sight do not always see 
these visions at once, though they be together at the time 
But if one who iias this faculty, designedly toucli his fellow 
seer at the instant of a vision's appearing, then the second 
sees it as well as the fi.-'st ; and this is sometimes discerned 
by those that are near them on such occasions " — Martin'' s 
Description of the ^''cstern Islands, 1716. 8vo. p. 300 
et scg. 

To these particulars innumerable examples might be 
added, all attested by grave and credible authors. But in 
despite of evidence, wiiicli neither Bacon, Boyle nor John 
son were able to resist, the T'afsc/t. with all iis visionary 
properties, seems to be now universally abandoned to the 
use of poetry. The exquisitely beautiful poem of Lochiei 
will at once occur to tlie recollection of every reader 

Note VII. 

Here for retreat in dangerous ho7ir, 
Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 

Stanza xxv. line 11 
The Celtic chieftiaris, whose lives were continually ex 
posed to peril, had u.«ually in the mos^t retired spo' of theii 
domains, some place of retreat for the hour of necessity, 
which, as circum-stances would admit, was a tower, a ca- 
vern, or a rustic hut, in a strong and secluded situation 
One of these last gave refuge to the unfortunate Charle;? 
Edward, in his perilous wanderings after the battle of 
Uulloden 
*' It was si' ated in the face of a very rough, liigti, ano 



NOTES TO CANTO FIRST 163 

rocky mountain, called l.etteniilichk, still a part of Benal- 
der, full of great stcues and crevices, and some scattered 
wood interspersed. The habitation called the Cage, m ihe 
face of that mountain, was within a small thick bn<l: of 
wood. There were first some rows of trees laid down, in 
order to level a floor for a habitation ; and as the place was 
steep, this raised tlic lower side to an equal heiplit with the 
other; am! these trees, in jIk; way of joists or planks, were 
levelled with earth and gravel. There were beuvixt the 
trees, growing naturally on their own roots, some slakes 
tixed in the earth, which with the trees, were interwovtii 
with ropes, made of heaih and birch twigs, up to the top of 
the Cage, it being of a round or rather oval shape ; and the 
whole thatched and covered over with fog. The whole fabric 
hung, as it were, by a large tree, which reclined from one 
end all along the roof, to the oilier, and vvliich gave ii the 
name of a Cage, and by chance there happened to be two 
stones at a small distance from one another, iti the sid<; next 
the precipice, resem'oiing the pillars of a chimney, where 
the tire was placed. The smoke had its vent out here, all 
along the fall of the rock, which was so much of the same 
colour, that one could discover no difference in the clearest 
day." — Home's History of the rebellion^l^owi. J802. 4to. p 
Iftl. 

Note VIII 

Jilij sire's tall form might <rr ace thepart 
Of FcrraffiLS or ./Jscaiajf .Stanza xxviii. line 13 
These two sons of Anak flourished in romantic fable 
'1 he first is well known to the admirers of Ariosto, by tlie 
name of Ferrau. He was an antagonist of Orlando, and was 
at length slain by him in single combat. There is aromancp 
in the Auchinleck MS., in which Ferragusis thus described 

" On a day come tiding 
Unto Charls the king, 

Al of adoughti knight 
Was conien to Navers, 
Stout he was and fers, 

Veruagu he hi^ht. 
Of P.abiloun the soudan 
Thider him sende gan, 

With king Charls to figlil 
So hard lie was to fond (o) 
That no dint of brond 

No greued liiin, aplight. 



(a) Found, proved. 



164 NOTES TO CANTO F^R^•T 

He hadde tvventi men stienghie. 
And ibuni fef of lengtlie. 

Thilke painim hede, (b) 
And lour leet in the lace, 
Y-nieten (c) in tlie place, 

And fifteen in brede. (d) 
His nose was a lot and more ; 
His brow, as bresiless wore ; (e) 

He mat it seigho it sede- 
He looked lotheliche, 
And was swart, (/) as aiij' piclie. 

Ol'hJm men n)ight ad rede." 
Romance of Ckarleiuaffnc, 1. 46 1- iS-i-JiuchinlccIc MS. fol 2G5 

Asoapart, or Aacabart, makes a very material figure in the 
History ol' Bcvis ol Hampton, by wlioni lie was conquered. 
His elfisjie.s may be seen guarding one side of a gate at South 
ampton, wliile the other is occupied by Sir Hevis himself 
Tile dimensions of Ascapart were little inferior to tliose oi 
Feffagiib, if the following description be correct . 

" They metten with a geaunt, 
With a loUieliclie semblauat. 
He was wonderliche strong : 
Rome (if) thretti fote long. 
His bred was both gret and rowe ; (A) 
A space of a fol betwene is (i) browe 
His clob was, to yeue (A) a strok, 
A lite bodi of an oak. ll) 

Beues hadde of him wonder gret, 
And askede him what a het, {m) 
And yaf (n) men of liis contre 
Were ase meclie (o) ase was he. 
* Me name,' a sede, (p) ' i.s Ascopard • 
Garci me sent hideward. 
For to bring this queue ayen, 
And tlie Beues her of-slen. (q) 
Icam Garci is (rl chanipioun, 
And was i-driue out of me (s) toun, 
Al for that ich was so lite, (t) 
Eurci man me vvolde smite, 
Ich was so lite and so merugh, (u) 
Eueri man me clepede dwerugh. (t)) 

(b) Had (c) Measure. (rf> Breadth, (c) Were. (/) Black 
^g) Fully, ill) Ronirh. d) His. {k) Give. (I) The stem of n 
little oak tree, {m) He hioht, was', called. {.n)If. (o^ Great. 
Ip) He said. (?) Sla7j. i.r)His. (s) Mn. (t) Little. (u^Lean 
(v) Dwarf 



NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 165 

And now icliam in this londe, 
I wax nior (w) ich uniiersloiide, 
And sirengeie than other tene ; (z) 
Ami that scliel on us be senc." 
Sir Bcvis of Hampton, I. 2512. Jiuchinleck MS. fol. 189 

Note IX 
Tliough all imaskedhis birth and name. St. xxix. line 10 
Thi^ Irinhlaiulers. who carried hospitality to a pnnctilious 
ejc-f'ss, are said to have considen^d it aa churlisli, to ask a 
slran<:er his name or iiiieagc, before he had taken refresli 
meut. Feuds were so frequent anionj; tiieni, that a contrary 
rule would, in n-.any cases, have produced the discovery of 
some circnmsance, which might have exchided tlie gueei 
from the benefit of tiie asdistance he stood in need of. 

Note X. 

^ind still a harp unseen, 

Filled up the syviphony beiiceen. Stanza xxx. line 21. 

"They (meaning the highlanders) delight much in niu 
sicke, but chiefly in harps and clairschoe.s of their own fash 
ion. The strings of the clairschoes are made of brassowire, 
and the strings of the harp of sinews; which strings they 
strike either with tlieir nayies, growing long, or else with 
:>n instrument apjioiirTed for lliat use. They take great 
pleasure to decke their harps and clairschoes with silver 
and precious stones; the poore ones that cainiot ai;aynehere- 
unto, deck llu;m with chrisiall. They sing verses prettily 
compound, contayning 'Jor the most part) prayses of valiant 
men. There is not almost any other argument, wlwreof 
their ryhmes intreat. They speak the ancient French Ian 
L'uage,"alt('red a Iiiile."t--" The harp and clairschnes are 
now heard of in ancient song only in the higlilands. At 
what period these instruments ceased to be used, is not on 
record ; and tradition is silent on this head. But as Iri.-^h 
harpers occasionally visited the highlands and western isles 
till lately, rhe harp 'might have t)een extant so late as tlie 
middle of the present century. Thus far we know, that from 
remote times down lo the present, harpers were received as 
welcome guests, particularly in the highlands of Scotland; 
and so late a.-; the latter end of the sixteenth century, as 
appears by the above quotation, the harp was in conmior! 
use among the natives of the western isles. How it happen 
ed that the noisy and inharmonious bagpipe banislied the 



\v) Greater, taller. {x) Ten. 

tVide " Certo} ne matters concerning tlie reahne of Sect 
land, &.C as thev were ainn) Domini 1597. Lond. 1603 " 4lu 



im NOTES TO CAKTO SECOND. 

soft and expressive liarp, we cannot say ; but certain it ia 
that the bagpipe is now the only iii'Siuinieiit that ohtains 
universally in the hi^ihiand district-;." — CampbeWs Journey 
through J\/'ortk Britain, Lond. 1S08. 4lo. i. 175 

Mr Gunn, of Kdinbnrgli, lias lately publislied a curiou»s 
essay upon the harp and iiarp music of tht; highlands of 
Scotland. That the instrument was once in connnon use 
•here is most certain. Cleland numbers an acquaintancs 
with it amoufr the few acconipliyhnients which liis satire 
allows to the highlanders ; 

In nothing tliey're accounted sJiarp. 
Except in bagpipo or iin harp. 



NOTES TO CANTO SEC0IS1>. 

Note I. 

Mont's frenial influence roused aminttrcl gray- St. i. line 1 
That highland chieftnins, to a late penod ret.med >a 



their service the bard. «« ^/^ 'i^."^''';''*' m^'scodnnd"''' 
easy proof. The author of the etters irom ScoUand. an 
officer of en-ineers, quartered at Inverness about 1 -20. who 
officer ot en in ' ^^^^^^^ ^^ f,,„,,,ble witness, giv^s the 



certainly cannot be deerneaa laNou.au.. wr^horn he 
following account of the office, and of a bard, whom he 
heard exercise his talent of recitation. hicrhland 

..The bard is skilled in the genealogy of all the highland 
families, sometimes preceptor »<> ^he>-oung laird cekhra^^^^^ 
in Irish verse the original of the tribe, the f^'^^"^/'^!^^^^^^ 
actions of the successive heads, and sin^s his own ! nek 
as an opiate to the chief, when indisposed for sleep but 
^oets are not equally esteemed and honoui-.d in a 1 countne^ 
F happened to^ .e a witness of the dishonour done to the 
Lse. at the house of one of the chiefs, where two of these 
E^rd were set at a good distance, at the lower end of a long 
table, with a parcel of highlnnders of no extraordinary ap- 
pearance over a cup of ale. Poor inspiration! 
^ '«They were not asked to dru.k a glass of wine at our 
table, thoncrh tne whole company consisted only of the great 
man, one of his near relations, and n.yself. , .. .„ 

After some little Ume, the chief ordered one of them to 
sin- me a highland song. The bard readily obeyed, and with 
a hoarse voice, and in a tone of few wmous notes began 
as I was told, one of his own lyricks ; and when he had pro- 
ceded to the fourth and fifth stanza. I perceived by the 
names of several persons, glens and mountains, which I had 
known or heard of before, that it was an account of some 
clan battle. Butin thisgoi-'g on, the chief (who piqueS him- 
self upon his school-learning) at some i<:>rlicular passage bid 
him cease, and cried out, "There's nothing like that in 
Virgil or Homer." I bowed, and told him I believed so. This 
you may believe was very edifying and delightful" — Lettrcs 
from Scotland,U' 107.* 

Note II 

The Grmmc- Str.nza vi. line 2R. 

The ancient and po'A-erful family of fJraham (which 
for Dielrical reasons, is her spelled after the Scottish pr«^ 



168 NOTES TO CAiNTO FIRST. 

nunciation,) held extensive possessions in the counticg oi 
Dumbnrton and Stiuling. Few fannilies can boasl 5f mor« 
historical renown, havinsjclnim to throe of the most reini.rk 
able characters in the Scottish annals. Sir John the Gra^rTie 
the faithful and ii/idaanted partaker of the labours and pat 
riotic warfare of Wallace, fell in the unfortunate field oj 
Falkirk, in i:98. The celebiated Marquis of Mrontrnse, ii 
whom De Ketz saw realized his abstract idea of (he heroef 
of antiquity, was the second of these worthies. And, notwith 
standing the severity of his temper, and the rigour with 
which he executed the oppressive mandates of the pnnccg 
whom he served, I do not hesitate to nixnic as the third, 
John Graham, of Claverhouse, viscount of Dundee, whoso 
heroic death, in the prms of victory, may be believe to can- 
eel the memory of his cruelty to the non-conformists, dur- 
iDg the reigns of Charles II. and James II. 

Note 1)1. 
This h irp which cr.it Snint Modan swayed. St. vii. line. 18 

I ain not prepared to show that St. Modan was a pertonn- 
eronthe harp. It was, however, no unsaintly accompli.sh- 
meat ; for Saint Dunstan certainly did play i pon that inslru- 
ment, which rt'laining-, as was nat,;ral, a pinion of the sanc- 
tity attiiclied to its master's character, announced future 
events by its spontaneous sound. »' But labouring- once lit 
these mechanic arts tor a devoule matrone that had sett hin\ 
on worke, his voiH that hung by him 011 the wall, of its owne 
accord, without anie man's helpe, distinctly sounded this 
anthime : Gaudent in culis anivite sanctorum qui Chrinti vet. 
tigia sunt sccuti : et quiayro cius nmorc sanguincvi suumfw 
derunt, idea cum. Christo gaudent i?i aternuvu Wliere.nt »1J 
the companie being rnuch astonished, turned their eyes from 
behoulding him working-, to looke on that strange accident.' 
— ''Not long after, manic of the court that hitherunto had born 
a kind of fayned friendship towards hiin, hes^an now grately 
to cnvie at his progresse and risinj^ in goodness, using manie 
crooked backbiting- means to diffnme his vertues "ith the 
black markes of hypocrise- And the beUer to authorise their 
calumnie, they brought in this that happened in the violl, 
affirming it to have been done by art m;igick. What more ' 
his wicked rumour encreased dayly. till the king and others 
)f the nohiiitie taking hould thereof, Punstan grew cd'.oo^ 
n their sight. Therefore he resolved to leaiie the cour'., ami 
(Oe to Klphegiis. surnam-jd the Bald, then bishop of Wm 
ihester, who was his cozen. ^Vhicli his enemies understand 
ng, they layed wayle for him in the way, and hauing thiowne 
him off his horse, bent h:m and draged hirn in the durt in the 
inost miserable manner, meaning to haue slain him, had Dot 8 



NOTES TO CANTO SECOND- 169 

eompanie of m.isliue dogjes, that came unlookt uppon them, 
defendcil and redeemed him their from crueltic. When with 
lortow lie was ashamed to see dog'gcs more humaue than 
they. And jjiuing thankes to Alinightie God, he, sensiblj 
again piTceiuiod that the tunes of his violl had giuen him 
a wanrlng of future accidents." — Flower of the Lives of the 
most renowned Saints of England, Scotland, and Ireland, 
by t/ie H. Father Hicrome Porter. Doway, \&^-2, 4lo. Tome 
I. p. 43!!. 

Th'; same supernatural circumstance is aUiided to by the 
anonymous author of "Grim, the Collier of Croydon." 



-[Dunstari' s harp sounds on the trail. | 



Forest. Harlc, hark, my lord, the holy abbot's harj- 
Sounds liy its-lf so hanging on tht; wall I 

Duvntun. Unhallowed man, that scorn'sl the sacrod rea.l 
Hark, how the testimony of my truth 
Sounds lieavenly music with an angel's hand, 
To testify Dunstan's intei;rity. 
And prove thy active boast, of no effect." 

Note IV. 
Ere Doufflas to ruin driven. 

Were exiled from theirnative heaven. St viii. line V> 
The downfil of the Douglases of the house of Angu* 
during the reign of .lames V. is the event alluded to in the 
text. Th^; ear) of Angus, it will he remebered, had mar 
ried the queen dowager, and availed himself of the iighi 
which he thus acquired, as well as of his extensive pnwej 
to retain the king in a sort of tutelage, whicii approacheil 
very near to captivity. Several open attempts were mud" 
to rescue .James from this thraldom, with which hpwas weli 
known to be deeply disgusted ; hut the valour of the Douj; 
lases. and their allies, gave them the victory in every 
conflict- At length, the king, while residing at F'alkland, 
contrived to escape by night out of his own court and 
palace, and rode full speed to Stirling Castle, where the 
governor, who was of the oppo9'*e faction, joyfully received 
him. 'eing thus at liberty, James speedily summoned 
around him such peers as he knew to be most inimical to 
the domination of Angus, and laid his complaint before them, 
gays, I'itscotlie, " with great lamentations : showing to theit 
how he was holden in subjection, ihir years bygone, by the 
carl of Angus, and his kin and friends, who oppressed the 
whole country, and spoiled it under the pretence of justice 
and his authority ; and had slain many of his leges, kinsmen 
and friends, because they would have had it mended at their 
hands, and put him at liberty, as lie ought to have been, ai 
the counsel of his whole lords, and not have been subjecteil 
nitii corrected with no psiticular men, bj the »*»f of hix 



170 NOTES TO CANTO SECOxND. 

nobles : Tlicrefore, said he, 1 desire my lords, that I may be 
satlstied of the said earl, his kin, and friends; for I avow, 
that Scotland shall not hold us both, while (i, e. till) I be 
revenged on him and his. 

''The lords hearing the king's complaint and lamentation, 
and also the great rage, fury, and malice, that he bare to- 
^vard the earl of Angus, his kin and friend;, they concluded 
all and thought it best, that he shoulii be summoned to 
iindetiy the law ; if he fand not caution, nor yet compear 
himself, that he should be put to the horn, with all his kin 
tvnd friends, so many as were contained in the letters. And 
further, the lords ordained, by advicp of his mnjesty, that his 
brothtr and friends should be summoned to find caution to 
underlv the law within a certain day, or else be put to the 
horn. But the earl appenred not, nor none tor him ; and so 
be was put to the horn, with all bis kin and friends : so many 
as were contained in the summons, that compared not, were 
banished, and holdsn traitors to the king." — Lindsay of Pit 
scottie's History of Scotland, Edinburgh, fol. p. 142. 

Note V. 
In holy Rood a knight he slew. Stanza xii. line 5 
This was by no means an uncommon occurrence in the 
court of Scotland ; nay, the presence of the sovereign himself 
scarcely restrained the ferocious and inveterate feuds which 
were the perpetual source of bloodshed among the Scottish 
nobility. The following instance of the murder of Sir 
George Stuart of Ochiltree, called The B loody, hy the cele- 
brated Francis eail of Bothwell, may be produced amon 
many ; biit as the offence given in the royal court will hardly 
bear a venacular translation, I shall leave the story in John- 
ston-":^ Latin, rtf-rring for further particnhirs to the naked 
simplicity of RirrelPs Diary, 30th July, 15GS. * 

jkors improbi hominis non tarn ipsa imvierita, qvampessi- 
mo exemple in publicum fade perpetrata. GuHelmus Stuar- 
tus Jllkiltrius, Aranifrater, natura ac vioribus, cvjus see- 
•plus mcrnim, vulgo propter sitim sanguinis gaiiGuinarius 
dictus, a Bothvelio,in Sanctas Crxicis Hcgia, czardescentre 
ira, mendacii probro Incessitus, obscccnuvi oscalum liberius 
etorquebat ; Botvelius hanc contnwe.liam tacitus tulit, sed 
ngentcm irarum molem animo concepit. Vtrinqnc postri- 
die Edinburgi conventum^totidemnumero comitibus armatis, 
prcesidii causa, et acriter pugnatum est ; cceteris amicis et 
clientibus vietu torpcntibus, aut vi abstcrritis, ipse Stuartus 
fortissinie dimicat, tandem excusso gla.dio a Bothvelio. 
scythica feritate transfoditur, sine cujusqvatn niiscricor- 
dia ; habuit itaque qucn dcbuit ezituvi Dignus crat Stii 
artus qui pateretur ; Bothvelius quifacrrct. Fulgus san 
guinctx sanguine prcsdicabat, et korum cruore innocuorum 
manibus egregic pai-entatum.'^ — R. Johnstoni Historia 
Rerum Brkannirarum. ab anno, 157-2, ad annum 1628. Ad 
•telodami, 1655, fol. p. 135 



NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 17 

Note VI. 
Ilie Douglas like a stricken deer, 
Ditowned by every noble peer. Stanza xii. line 13. 
The exile state of this powerful race is not exaggerated io 
this and subsequent passages. The hatred of James against 
ihe race of Douglas was so inveterate, that numerous as their 
allies were, and disregardi^d as the regal authority had usual- 
ly been in similar cases, their nearest frie.nds, even in the most 
rennote parts of Scotland, Jursl not entertain them, unless 
under the strictest and closest disguise James Douglas, son 
of the banished earl of Angus, afterwards well known by the 
title of earl of Morton, lurked, during the ex>le of his faniily 
Ju the north of Scotland, under the assumed name of James 
{nnes, otlierwisn James the Grieve, (i e. Reve or Bailiff. > 
•' And as he bore the name," — says Godscroft, " so did he 
also execute the office of a grieve or overseer of the lands 
and rents, the corn and cattle of him, with whom he lived. ' 
From the habits o( frugality and observation, which he 
acquired in this Itumble situation, the historian traces thai 
intimate acquaintance with popular character, which enable i 
him to risH, so high iu the state, and that honorable economy 
by which he repaired and established the shattered estate- 
i>f Angus and Morton. — History of the house of Douglaa 
Edinburgh, 17-13, vol. II. p. 160. 

Note VII. 
Muronnan's cell. Stanza xii. line 16. 



The parish of Kilmaronock, at the eastern extremity o( 
f..och Lomond, derives its name from a cell or chapel, dedj 
cated to Saint Maronoch, or Marnoch, about whos-^ sanctity 
very little is now remembered. There is a fountain devoted 
10 him in the same parish, but its virtues, like the merits 
of Its patron, have fallen into oblivion. 

Note VHI. 

BrackliiCs thundering wave. Stanza xiv. line 4. 

This is a beautiful cascade made at a place called the 
Bridge of Bracklinn, by a mountain stream called the 
Keltic, about a mile from the village oi Callander, in Men- 
teith. Above a chasm where the brook precipitates itself 
Irom a height of at least fifty feet, there is thrown, for the 
convenience of the neighbourhood, a rustic foot bridge, of 
about three feet in breadth, and without ledges; which i« 
scarcely to be crossed by a stranger without awe and appie 
tiensioB. 

Note IX. 

For Tyne- man forged by fairy lore. Stania xv. line 4. 

Archibal I, the third earl of Douglas, was so unfnrt.inate ic 

iiU his euUsf prisos, that he acquired the epithet of Tinaaau. 



172 NOTES ro CANTO SECOND, 

because he tincd or lost his followers in every battle which 
he fought. He. was vanquished, ns every reader must remem- 
ber, in ihii bloody battle of Hornildonliill, near Wooler, where 
he himself losi an eye, and was made prisoner by Hotspur. 
He was no less unfortunate when allied with Percy, being 
wounded and iiil<en at the battle of Shrewsbury. He was so 
unsuccessful in an attemjtt to besiege Roxburjjh Castle, that 
it was called the Foul Raid, or disgraceful expedition. His ill 
fortune left him indeed at the battle of Beaup^e, in France ; 
but it was only to return with double emphasis, as tlie subse- 
quent aclio'i of Vernoil, the last and most unlucky of his en- 
counters, in which he fell, with the flower of the Scottish 
chivalry then ferving as auxiliaries in France, and about two 
thousand common soldiers, A. D. I'r24. 

Note X. 
Did self-unscabliarded, fore-show, 
The footsie]) of a secret fuc. Stazna xr. line 7. 
The ancient warriors, whose hope and confidence rested 
chiefly in their blades, w^re accustomed to deduce omeoa 
from them, especially from such as were supposed to have 
been fabricated by enchanted skill, of which we have various 
instances in the romances and legends of the tim<". The won- 
derful sword Sfcuffuung, wielded by the celebrated Hrolf 
Kraka, was of this description. It was deposited in the tomb 
of the monarch at his death, and taken from thence by Skej- 
§^0, a celebrated pirate, who bestowed it upon his son- in-law 
Kormak, with the following curious directions: '' The man- 
ner of using it will appear strange to you- A smal bag is at 
tached to it, which take heed not to viohxt-. Let not the rays 
of the son touch the upper part of the handle, nor unsheath 
it unless thou art ready for battle. Rut, when thou comest to 
the place of fight, go aside from the rest, grasp and extend 
the sword, and breath upon it. Then a small worm will 
creep out of the handle : lower the handle that he may more 
easily return into it." Kormak, after having received the 
sword, returned home to his mother. He showed the sword 
and attempted to draw it, as unnecessarily as ineffectually, 
for he could not jiluck it out of the siieath. His mother Dalla 
exclaimed : " Do not despise the counsel given to thee, my 
son."' Kormak, however, repeating r.is efforts, pressed down 
the handle with his feet, and tore off the bag, when Skof- 
nung emitt<'<l a l-.ol'ovv groan. But still he could not un- 
sheath the sword. Kormak then went out with Bessus, whom 
he had challenged to fight wi-lh him, and drew apart at the 
place of combixl. He sat down upon the ground, and ungird 
ingthe svrord, which he bore above his vestments, and did not 
remember to shield the hilt from the rays of the sun. In vain 
he endeavoured to draw it, till he placed his foot .igainst the 
tiilt ; then the worm issued from it But Kormak did oAt 



NOTES TO UANTO SECOND. TO 

r-.glitly handle the weapon, in conser^uence whereof goo<5 
tortuiie deserted it. Ashe unsheathed Skofnung, it emitff^d 
a hollow iiiurn\i}r.'"—BartkolinideCaiisis ContcniptcEaDan 
is ailhuc Gentilibus Mortis., Libri Tres. Hafnix^ I689,4t« 
p. 57 1. 

To the history of this sentient and pr-^scient weapon, t 
beg leHve to add, from mefiiory, t'lc following le<:^end, loi 
which { cannot produce any better authority. A young 
nobleman, of hig-h hopes and fortune, chanced to lose his way 
in the town which he inliabiled, the capital, if I inislake not. 
of a (ierman prmince. He h:id accidentally involved himself 
amon^ the narrow and winding streets of a suburb inhabited 
by the lowest order of the people, and an approarning thun 
der shovv.'r determined him to ask a short rtfuge in the mott 
decent habitation that was near him. He knocked at the 
door, which wa-; opened by a tall man, of a grisly and fero- 
cious asjiect, and sordid dress. The stranger was readily 
nshered to a. chamber, where swords, scourges, and machines, 
which seemed to be implements of torture, where su-pended 
on the wall. One of these swords dropt from its scabljard, as 
the nohlemi'.n, after a moment's hesitation, crossed the thres- 
hold. His host immediately stared at him with such a iii.arked 
expression, that the young man could not help demandin<> 
bis name and business, and the meaning of his looking at him 
so fixedly. "lam," answered the man, " the public execu- 
tioner of this city : and the incident you have observed i.- a 
sure augury, that 1 shall, in discharge of my duty, one day tut 
off your head with the weapon which has just now sponta- 
neously iirisheathed itself." The nobleman lost no time m 
leaying his place of refuge ; but, engaging in some of the 
plots of the period, was shortly after decapitated by that very 
man and insirumen'. 

Lord Loval is said, by the author of the Letters from Scot- 
land, to have affirmed, that a number of swords that hung 
op in the hall (>f ihe mansion-hoiwe leaped of themselves out 
of the scabbards at the instant he was born. This story passed 
current {iinong his clan, but, like that of the story I have 
just quo»ed, proved an unfortunate omen. — Letters from Scot 
land, vol.H. p. :il4. 

Note XL 

The Pibroch proud. Stanza xvii. line 2. 

The coniioissPiirs in pipe-music affect to discover in a we.l- 
composed pibioch, the imitative sounds of march, conflict, 
flight, pursuit, and all the "current of a lieady fighl." To 
this opinion, l>r Ueattie has given his suffrage in the follow 
ingp!e^,ant pHS'nge. "A pi6rocA is a species of tune peculiar, 
I think, to the highlatids and western isles of Scotland. It it 
performed on a bagpipe, and differs totally from ail other 
music. Its rylhin is so irregular, and its notes, especially in 



m NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 

the quick movement, so niijced and huddled together, that a 
«tran^ei" finds it impossible to reconcile his ear to it, so as to 
j)erceive its inodulation. Some of ihtst; pibrochs, beinsf in- 
.ended to represent a battle, begin with a grave motion, re- 
lembling H niiirch ; then gradually quicken into the onset; 
un ofi with noisy confusion, and turbulent rapidity-, to imi- 
.ate the conllict and pursuit ; then -well into a few nourishes 
jf triumphant joy ; and perhaps close with (iie wild and slow 
\'ailings ot a luneral procession." — Essay on J-,aughter and 
Ludicrous Composition, chap. III. 7iote- 

Note XII. 
Roderick rich Alpine, dhu, ho ! ieroc ! St. xix. line 10. 
Besides his ordinary name and surname, which were chiefly 
used ill his inlircourse with the low!r.n()s, every hiphland 
chief had an epithet expressive of his p.itriarchal dignity as 
head of the chui and which was conirnon to all his predeces- 
sors and successors, as Pharaoh to the kings of Egypt, or 
Arsaces to those of Parlhia. This name was usually a patro- 
nymic expressive of his descent from the founder of the 
family. Thus the duke of Argyle is called Mac Callanmore, 
or the So7i of Colin the Great- Sometmies, however, it is de- 
rived from annonal distinctions, or thf memory of some 
great foat ; thus lord Seaforih, as chief of the Mackenzies,or 
Clan-Kennet, bears the epithet of Caber-fae. or jBmc^'j? Heady 
as representative of Colin Fitzgerald, founder of the family 
who saved the Scottish king, when endangered by a stag 
But besides this title, which belonged to his office and dig- 
nity, the chieft.iin had usually another peculiar to himself, 
wlii'*.h distinguished him from the chieftains of the same race. 
This was sometimes derived from complexion, as dhuorroy; 
sometimes from size, as beer or more; at other times, from 
Some particular exploit, or from some peculiar! y of habit o/ 
appearance. The line of the text therefore signifies, 

Black Hoderick, the desendant of Alpine. 

The song itself is intended as an imitation of the sorrams., 
or boat-songs of the highlanders, which were usually compos- 
ed in honour of" a favorite chief. They are so adapted as to 
keep time with the sweep of the oars, and it is easy to distin- 
guish between those intended to be sung to the oars of a 
galley, where the stroke is lengthened and doubled as it were, 
and those which were timed to the rowers of an ordinary 
boat. 



NoteXFir. 
The best of Loch-Lomond lie dead on her side. St. xx. line 4 
The LennC'X, as the district is called which encircles the 
lower extremity of Locii-Lomond, was peculiarly exposed 



NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 175 

to the incursions of the mountaineers, who inhabited the 
inaccessible fastnesses at the upper end of the lake, and 
the neighbouring district of Loch-Katrine. These were 
often marked by circumstances of great ferocity, of which 
the r)oltd conflict of Glen fruin is a celebrated instance. 
This w?s a clan-battle, in which the Macgregois, headed by 
Allaster Macgregor, chief of the clan, encountered the s^y-t 
of Colquhoiins, commanded by sir Huniphery Colquhoun of 
Luss. It is on all hands allowed, that the action was des- 
peratel) fought, and that the Colquhouns were defeated 
with slaughter, leaving two hundred of their name dead 
upon the field. But popular tradition has addci other hor- 
rors to the tale. It is said, that Sir Humphry Colquhoun, 
who was on horseback, escaped to the Castle of Benechra, or 
iJanochar, and the next day was dragged out and murdered 
by tlie victorious Macgregors in cold blood. Buchaiinan of 
Auchmar, however, speaks of his slaughter as a subsequent 
event, aiiJ as perpetrated by the Macfirlanes. Again it is re 
ported that the Macgregors murdered a number of youths, 
whom rejort of the intended b;ttlle had brought to be specta- 
tors, and whom the Colquhouns, anxious for their safety, had 
shut up in a barn to be out of da'oger. One ace >unt of the 
Macgregors denies this tircumslance entirely; another 
ascribed it to the savage and blood-thirsty disposition of a 
single individual, the bastard brother of the laird of 
Macgregor, who amused himself with this second mas- 
sacre of the innocents, in express disobedience to the 
chief, by whom he was left their guardian during the 
pursuit of the (.'olquhouns. It is added, that Macgregor 
bitterly latnented tliis atrocious action, and prophesied 
the ruin which it must bring upon their ancient clan- 
The following account of the conflict, which is indeed drawn 
up by a Iriend of the clan Gregor, is altogether silent on the 
murder of the youths. "In the spring of the year li 02, there 
happened great dissensions and troubles between the laird 
of Luss, chief of the Colquhouns, and Alexander, laird of 
Macgregor The original of these quarrels proceeded from 
injuries and provocations mutually given and received, not 
long before. Macgregor, however, wanting to have thera 
ended in friendly conferences, marchi-d at the head of two 
hundred of his clan, to Leven. which bor<lers on Luss, his 
country, with a view of settling matters by the mediation 
of frii-nds ; but Luss Iiad no such intentions, and projected 
his measure with a different vit-w ; for he privately drew 
together a body of 300 horse and 500 foot, comjiosed partly 
of his own clan and their followers, and partly of the Fiuch- 
annans, liis neighbors, and resolved to cut ofl' Macgregor and 
his party to a man, in case tlie issue of the conference did 
not answer his inclination. But matters fell otherways than 
he expected ; and though Macgregor had previous informa 
(ino of his insidious design, yet dissembling his resentment 



176 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 

he kept the appointment, and parted good friends In appear 
ance. 

"No sooner was he gone than Luss, thinking to surjjris* 
hira and his party in Cull security, and vvimoui any dreao 
or apprehension of his treachery, followeti witli all speed 
and came up « ith hirn at a place called Gknfroon. Mac 
gregor, upon the alarm, divided hip men into two parties 
the greatest part whereof he commanded himself, and the 
other he committed to the care of his brother John, whc 
by his orders, led tiiem about another way, and attackec' 
the Colquhouns in Hank. Here it was fought with grea 
bravery on both sides for a considerable time, and notwith 
standing tne vast disproportion of numbers, Macgregor, it 
the end, obtained an absolute victory. So great was the rout, 
that 200 of the Colquhouns were left dead upon the spot- 
most of the leading men were killed, and a multitude of 
prisoners taken. But what seemed most surpiisir,^ and in- 
credible in this defeat, was that nonn of the 3tacgregor 
were missing except John, the laird's brother, and one com- 
mon fellow, ihoiiyh indeed many of them were wounded." — 
Professor Ross's History of the Family of Sutherland, l^"' 
The consequences of the battle of Gleniruin were Vk., 
calamitous to the family of Macgregor, who had already- 
been considered as an unruly clan. The widows ol the slain 
Colquhouns, sixty, it is said, in number, appeared in doleful 
procession before the king at Stirling, each riding upon a 
white palfrey, and bearing in her hand the bloody shsrtof her 
husband, displayed upon a pike. James VI. was so much 
moved by the complaints of this " choir of n'.ournful dames," 
that he let loose his vengeance against the Macgregors 
without either bonds or moderation. The very name of 
the clan was proscribed, and those by whom it had been 
borne were given up to sword and fire, and absolutely bunt- 
ed down by bloodhounds like wild beasts. Argylc and the 
Campbells, on the one hand, Montrose, with the Grahamcs 
and Buchannans on the other, are said to have been the 
chief instruments in suppressing^ this devoted clan. The 
laird of Macgregor surrendered to the former, on condition, 
that he would take him out of Scottish ground. But, to use 
Birrell's expression, he kept "a highlandman's promise;" 
and, although he fultilled his word to the letter by carrying 
him as far as Berwick, he afterwards brought him back to 
Edinburgh, where he was executed wit!i eighteen of his 
c\Sin.~Bir7-cirs Diary, 2d October, 1603. The clan (Jregor 
being thus driven to utter despair, seem to have renounced 
ihe laws from the benefit of which they were excluiled, and 
their depredations produced anew act of council, confirming 
tiie severity of their proscription, which had only the effect 
of rendering them still more united and desperate. It is a 
most extraordinary proof of the ardent and invincible spirit 
of clanship, that notwithstanding the repeated proscriptioni 



NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 177 

provide nlljr ordained by the Jegislaturp. "for the timeoua 
prevcntniff the disorders and oppression Ihal rnay fall out by 
the said name and clan ot' Mac^regors, and their followers," 
they were in 1716 and 1743 a potent clan, and, continue to sub 
sist as a distinct and Dumerous race. 

Note XIV. 

The king's vindictive pride 

Boasts to have tamed the Border-side. St. xxviii. line 11 
In 16i!9 James V. made a convention at Edinburgh, for 
the purpose of considering the best mode of quelling the 
Border robbers, who, during the license of his minority, and 
the troubles which followed, had committed many'exorbi- 
tancies. Accordingly he assembled a flying army of ten 
thousand men, consisting of his principal nobility and their 
followers, who were directed to bring their hawks and dogf 
with them, that the monan h might refresh hiiiiself with 
=port during the intervals of military execution. \Vith thif 
array he swept through Ettrick forest, where he hanged 
over the gate of his own castle, Piers Cockburn of Hender- 
land, who had prepared, according to tradition, a feast 
for his reception. He caused Adam Scott of Tushielaw also 
to be executed, who w*s distinguished by the title of King 
of the border. But the most noted victim of justice, during 
that expedition, was John Armstrong of Gilnockie, famous 
in Scottish song, who confiding in his own supposed inno- 
cence, met the king, with a retinue of thirtv-six personf,, all 
nf whom \i)ere hanged at Carlenrlg, near the source of the 
Teviot. The effect of this severity was such, that as the 
vulgar expressed it, " the rush bush kept the cow," and 
" thereafter was great peace and rest a lojig time, where- 
through the king had great profit ; for he had ten thousand 
sheep going in the Ettricke forest in keeping by Andre-T 
Bc'l, who made the king as good coiiist of them as ihey had 
gone in the bounds of Fife," Pitscottie' s History, p. 153 

Note XV. 

What grace for Highland chief s judge ye, 

By fate of Border chivalry. Stanza xxviii. line 29 

James waji, in fact, equally attentive to restrain rapint 

ami feudal oppression in every part of his domains. " The 

kin^ past to the isles, and there held justice courts, and 

punished lioth thief an*! traitor accordiiicr to their demerit 

And also lio caused ereat men to show their holdings, whero- 

throujih he found niaiiy of the said lands in noiie-entry 

the which he confiscated and brouglit home to his own use 

and afterward annexed them to the crown as ye shaii hear. 

Sync brought many of the great men of the isles r,-iptivt 

with him, such as Mudyart, M'Conncl, M'Loyd of the Lewes 

M'Neil, M'Lane, M'lnto.sh, John Mudyart. M'Kay, M'Kenzie 



178 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 

with many others that I cannot rehearse at this time. Some 
of them he put inward and some in court, and some he took 
pledges for good rule in time coming. So he brought the 
isles both north and south, in good rule and peace ; where- 
fore he had great profit, service, and obedience of people 
a long time hereaiter, and as long as he had the heads of 
the country in subjection, they lired in great peace and 
rest, and there was great riches and policy by the king's 
justice." — Pitscottie, p. 152. 

Note XVI. 

Rest safe till morning — pity Hwere 

Such cheek should feel the midnight air. St, xxxv. line 7. 
Hardihood was in every respect so essential to the charac- 
ter of a highlander, that the reproach of effeminacy was 
the most biiter which could be thrown upon him. Yes it 
was sometimes hazarded on what we might presume to 
think slight grounds. It is reported of old sir Ewen Came- 
ron of Lochiel, when upwards of seventy, that he was sur- 
prised by night on a hunting or military exjiedition. He 
wrapped hirn in his plaid, and lay contentedly down upon 
the snow, with which the ground l*ppened to be covered. 
Among his attendants, who were preparing to take their 
rest in the same manner, he observed that one of his grand- 
sons, for his better accomodation, had rolled a large snow- 
ball, and placed it below his head. The wrath of the ancient 
chief was awakened by a symjitom of what he conceived 
to be degenerate luxury. "Out upon thee," said he, kicking 
the frozen bolster from the head which it supported, ''art 
thou so effetinnaie as to need a pillow?" The officer of 
engineers, whose curious letters from the highlands have 
been more than once quoted, tells a similar story of Mac- 
donald of Keppofh, and subjoins the following remarks : 

•'This and many other stories are romantic; but there is 
one ihing, tlsat at first thought might seem very romantic, 
of which 1 have been credibly assured, that when the high- 
landers are constraind to lie among the hills, in cold dry 
windy weather, they sometimes soak the plaid in some river 
;)r burne, i. e. brook ; and then holding up a corner of it a 
little above their heads, they turn themselves round and 
round, till they are envelojied by the whole nianile. They 
then lay themselves down on the heath, upon the leeward 
side cf sotne hill, where the wet and the warmth of their 
bodies make a steam, like that of a boiling kettle. The wet, 
they say, keeps them warm by thickening the stuff, and 
keeping ihe wind from penetrating. 

"Imus* confess I should have been apt to question this 
fact, had I not frequently seen them wet from morning to 
night; and even at the beginning of the rain, not so much 
as stir a few yards to shelter, but continue in it, without 



NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. ITS 

lecessity, till they were, as we saVj wet through and through- 
And that is soon effected by the looseness and sjuinginess o! 
the plaiding; but the bonnet is frequently taken off, anti 
wrung like a dishclout, and then put on again. 

"They have been accustomed from their infancy to be 
often wet, and to take the water like spaniels, and this i» 
become a second nature, and can scarcely be called a hard 
ship to them, insomuch that I used to say, they seemed to 
be of the duck-kind, and to love water as well. Though I 
nerer saw this preparation for sleep in windy weather, yet 
setting out early in a morning from one of the nuts, I have 
seen the marks of their lodging, where the ground has been 
free from rime or snow, which remained all round the spov 
where they had lain " — Letters from Scotland Lond, 1754 
Ssrc. II. p. 108. 

Note XVII. 
His henchman came. Stania xxxv. line 15. 

"This officer is a sort of Secretary, and ts to be read) 
upon all occasions, to venture his life in defence of his mas 
ter; and at drinking-bouts he stands behind his seat, at hif 
haunch, from whence his title is derived, and watches the 
conversation, to see if any one offends his patron. 

"An English officer being in company with a certain 
chieftain, and several other highland gentlemen, near Killi- 
chumen, had an argument with the great man; and both 
being well warmed with usky, at last the dispute grew 
rery hot. 

•• A 3'outh who was henchman, not understanding one 
word of English, imagined his chief was insulted, and there- 
upon drew his pistol from his side, and snapped it at the 
officer's head ; but the pistol missed fire, otherwise it is more 
than probable he might have suffered death from the hand 
of that little vermin. 

••But it is very disagreeable to an Englishman overs 
bottle, with the highlanders, to see every one of them have 
bis gilly, that is, his servant, standing behind him all the 
while, let what will be the subject of conversation." — H/ia 

n. id9. 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD 

Note I. 

Jind ichile the Fiery Cross glanced like ametcor round. 

Stanza i, line 18 

Whsn a chieftain designed to summon his c]an, upon 
any sudden or important emergency, he slew a g'Jaf, and 
making a cross of any light wood, seared its exlren:ities in 
the fire, and extinguisl)ed them in the blood of the animal 
This was called the Fiery Cross, also Crcan Tar«^A,or the 
Cross of Shame, because disobedience to what the symbol 
implied, inferred infamy. It was delivered to a swift and 
trusty messenger, who ran full speed with it to the next 
hamlet, were he presented it to the principal person, 
with a single word, implying the place of rendezvous. He 
who received the symbol was bound to send it forwards 
with equal despatch to the next village ; and thus, it passed 
with incredible celerity through all the district which owed 
allegiance to the chief, and also anions his allies and neigh- 
bours, if the danger was common to them. Ai sight of the 
Fiery Cross, every man, froru sixteen years old to sixty, 
capable of bearing arms, was oblitred instantly to repair, in 
his best arms and accoutrements, to the place of rendezvous. 
He wdo failtd to appear, suffered the extremities of fire and 
sword, which were emblematically denounced to the disobe- 
dient by the bloody and burned marks upon this warlike 
signal. During the civil war of 1745-6, the Fiery Cross often 
made its circuit; and upon one occasion it passed through the 
whole district of Breadalbane, a tract of thirty-two miles in 
three hours. The late Alexander Stuart, esq, of Inverna- 
hyle, described to me his having sent round the Fiery Cross 
through the district of Appine, during the same commotion. 
The coast w-as threatened by a descent from two English 
frigates, and the flower of the young men were with the 
army of Prince Charles Edward, then in England, yet the 
summons was so effectual, that even old ag.- and childhood 
obeyed it, and a force was collected in a few hours, so nu 
merous and so enthusiastic, that all attempt at the intended 
diversion upon the country of the absent warriors was in 
prudence abandoned, as desperate. 

This practice, like some others, is common to the high- 
landers with the ancient Scandinavians, as will appear by 
thd following extract from Ol&us Mag^nus 



IBS NOTES TO CANTO Thll^h. 

'•When tbe enemy is upon the sta-coast, or withir tlj« 
limits of northern kingdoms, than p-esentiy ':>y ib' g i 
manr] of the provincial goTsrao'irs, with the counsel an- 
consent of the old soldiers, who are notably stcilK^d in siici 
like business, a staff of three hands length, in the commn 
sight of them all, is carried by the speedy running of sonu 
active young man, unlo that village or city, with this com 
mand, — tliat on the 3. 4. or 8. day, one, two, or three, or elsr 
every man in particular, from 15 years old, shall come wjtl 
his arms and expenies for ten or twenty days, upon pain tba 
his or their houses shall be burnt, (which is intimated by thf 
burning of the staff) or else the mastr.r to be hanged, (whicl 
is signified by the cord tied to it) to appear speedily on sue! 
a bank, or field, or va'.lcy, to hear the cause he is called, ant 
to receive orderis from the said provincial governours wha' 
he should do. Wherefore that messenger, swifter than any 
post or wap^yn, having done his commission, comes slowly 
back again, bringing a token with him that he hath done all 
legally; and every moment one or other runs to every vil 

lage, and tells those places what they must do." ''The 

messengers, therefore, of the footman, that are to give war- 
ning to the people to meet for the battail, run fiercely and 
swiftily ; for no snow, nor rain, nor heat, can stop them, nor 
night hold them ; but they will soon run the race they un- 
dertake. The first messenger tells it to the next village, and 
that to the next; and so the hubbub runs all over, till they 
all know it in that stift or territory, where, when, and 
wherefore they must meet." — Olaus Magrais^s History oj 
ihe Goths, Englished by J. S. Lend. 1653 book iv. chap. 3, 4 

Note II, 
That Monk !}f savage form and face. Stanxa. iv. line 11. 

The state of religion in the middle ages afforded consider- 
able facilities for Ihose whose mode of life excluded them 
horn regular worship, to secure, nevertheless, the ghostly 
assistance of confcssoi's perfectly willing to adapt the nature 
of their doctrine to the necessities and peculiar circumstan- 
ces of their flock. Robin Hood, it is well known, had his 
celebrated domestic chaplain Friar Tuck. And that same 
nurtal friar was probably matched in manner and appear- 
Ance by the ghostly fathers of the Tyned^Ie robbers, who 
are thus described in an excommunication fulminated against 
their patrons by Richard Fox, bishop of Durham, tempore 
Henrici Vlllvi. " We have further understood, that there 
are many chaplains in the said territories of 'JVnednle and 
Redesdale, who are public and open maintainers of concu- 
binage, irregular, suspended, excommunicated, and inter- 
dicted persons, and withal so utterly ignorant of letters, that 
it hag been found by those who objected this to them, that 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD 183 

there were «omc who having- cekbrateu mass for ten years, 
were stUl smable lo read thesacrAinenVal service We have 
also understood there are persons among them, who, al- 
Ihou'^h not ordained, do take upon ttiem the offices of 
priesthood i and. in contempt of God. celebrate divine and 
sacred rites, and administer the sacraments, not only in sa- 
cred and dedicated places, but in those which are prophanc 
and interdicted, and most wretchedly ruinous ; they them- 
selves being attired in ragged, torn, and most filthy vest- 
ments, allos^ether unfit to be used in divine or even in tem- 
poral offices. The which said chaplains do administe 
sacraments and sacramental rites to the aforesaid manifes 
and infamous thieves, robbers, depredators, receivers of 
stolen goods, and plunderers, and that without restitution. 
or intention to restore, as is evinced by the fact 5 and do 
also openly admit them to the rites of ecclesiastical sepul- 
ture, without exacting security for restitution, ahlTough they 
are prohibited from doing so by the sacred canons, as well 
as by the inst'tutes of the saints and fathers. All which in- 
fers the heavy peril of their own souls, and is a pernicious 
examcle to the other believers in Christ, as well as no 
slio-bt* but an aggravated injury to the numbers despoiled 
and plundered of their goods, gear, herds, and cattle.''* 

To this lively and picturesque description of the confessors 
and churchmen of predatory tribes, there may be added some 
curious particlars respecting the priests attached to the 
several septs of native Irish, during the reign of queen t.liza- 
beth. These friars had indeed to plead, that the incursions, 
which they not onlv pardoned, but even encouraged, were 
made upon those hostile to them, as well in religion, as from 
national antipathy. But by protestant writers they are uni- 
formly alleged to be the chief instruments of Irish insurrec- 
tion, the very well-spring of all rebellion towards the English 
Kovernment. Lithgow, the Scottish traveller, declares the 
[rish woodkerne, or predatory tribes, to be but the hounds 
of their hunting priests, who directed their incursions b;r 
their pleasure, partly for sustenance, partly to gratify ani- 
mosity, partly to foment general division, and always for 
the better security and easier domination of the triars.* 
Derrick, the liveliness and minuteness of whose descriptions 
may frequently apologize for his doggerel verses, alter des- 
cribin.r an Irish feast, and the enco iragement given, by the 
songs of the bards, to its lerminaiicn in an incursion upon 

*The Monition against the Robbers of Tynedale and 
Redesdale, with which I was favoured by my frrend Mr. 
Surtees, of Mainsforth. may be found in the original Latin, 
in the Appendix to the Introduction to the Border Mio- 
strelsy. No. VII. fourth edition- 

t Lithgow's Travels, first edit. p. 431. 



I&4 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 

the parts of the countrj' more immediately under the domin 
ion of the English, records the no less powerful arguments 
used by the friar to excite their animosity : 

And more t' augment the flame 

and rancour of their harte, 
The friar, of his counsells vile 

to rebells doth imparte, 
Aflinniug that it is 

an almose deed to God, 
To make the English subjects taste 

the Irish rebells' rodde. 
To spoile, to kill, to burne, 

this friar's counsell is ; 
And for the doing of the same 

he warrants heavenlie blisse. 
He tells a holie tale ; 

the white he tournes to blacke ; 
And though the pardon's in his male. 

ho workes a knavishe knacke. 

The wreckful invasion of a part of the English pale is 
then described with some spirit ; the burning of« houses, 
driving off cattle, and all pertaining to such predatory 
inroads, is illustrated by a rude cut. The defeat of the 
Irish, by a party of English soldiers from the next garri- 
son, is then commemorated, and in like manner adorned 
with an engraving, in which the friar is exhibited mourn 
ing over the slain chieftain ; or as the ruble expresses it, 

The friar, then, that treacherous knave, with ough ough 
hone lament. 
To see his cousin Devill's-son to have so foul event. 

The matter is handled at great length in the text, of 
which the following verses are more than sufficient sample 

The friar seeing this, 

laments that luckless parte. 
And curseth to the pilte of hell 

the death man's sturdie harte ; 
Yet for to quight them with 

the friar laketh paine, 
For all the synnes that ere he did 

remission to obtainc. 
And therefore serv€s his booke. 

the candell and the bell ; 
But thinke you that suche apiahe toies 

bring damned souls from hell i 



# 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. U& 

It 'longs not to my parte 

infernall things lo knowe ; 
But I belfcve till later daie, 

thei rise not from belowe. 
Yet hope that friers give 

to this rebellious rout, 
If that their soules shculJ chaunce in helL 

to bring them qiiicklic out, 
Doeth make them iaacl si'che lives, 

As neither God nor nan, 
Without revenue for their desarles, 

permittc or sufTir can. 
Thus friers are the cause, 

the fountain and the spring, 
Of hurlebufles iu this lande, 

of eche unhappie thing. 
Thei cause them to rebell 

against their soveraigne quene : 
And through rebellion often tyrnes, 

their lives do vanishe clene. 
So as by friers meanes, 

in whom all follie swimme, 
The Irish karne do often lose 

the life, witn ledde and limme* 

As the Irish tribes, and those of the Scottish highlands 
ire much more intimately allied, by language, rnaimfis, 
Jres5, and customs, than the antiquaries of either countr) 
have been willing to admit, I flatter myself I have here pro- 
duced a strong warrant for the character sketched in the 
text The following picture, though of a different kind, 
serves to establish the exisience of ascetic religionists, to a 
comparatively late period, in the highlands and western 
»les. There is a gre?t deal of simplicity in the description, 
for which, as for much similar inforrnalion, I am obliged to 
Dr. John Martin, who visited the Hebrides at the suggestion 
of sir Robert Sibbald, a Scottish antiquary of eminence, and 
early in the eighteenth century published a description of 
them, which prccured him admission into the Royal Society. 
He died in London about l^lO. His works is a strange mix- 
ture of learning, observation and gross credulity 

" I remember," says this author, " I have seen an old lay- 
capucliin here (in the island of Benbecula) called in their 
la.iguage Brahirbocht, that is, Poor-Brother ; which is liter 



* This curious Picture of Ireland was inserted by the au 
thor in the republication of Somers's Tracts, vol. I. in which 
the plates have been also inserted, (rom the only impression! 
known to exist, belonging to the copy in the Advocate!' 
Library. See Somers's Tracts, vol. I. p. 594. 



m NOTES TO CANTO THIIJD. 

illy true ; for he answers tliis character, having nothini^ but 
what is givf.n him : he holds himself fully satisfied with food 
and raymirnl, and lives in as great simplicity as any of his 
onler ; his diet is very mean, and he drinJfS only fair water: 
liis habit is no less mortifying than thatof his brethren else- 
where ; he wears a short coat, which comes no farther than 
his middle, with narrow sleeves like a waistcoat; he wears a 
j'laid over it, girt abjut the middle, which reaches to his 
knee ; the plaid is fastened on his breast with a wo.odeii pin, 
his neck bare and his feet ofl'>n so too ; he wears a hat for 
ornament, and the string' about it is a bit of a fisher's line, 
made of horse- hair. This plaid he wears instead ot a ;;own 
worne by tho>e of his order in other countries : I told him 
he wanted the flaxen girdle that men of his order usually 
wear; he answered me, that he wure a leather one, whiih 
was the same thing. Upon the mnlter, if he is spoke to 
when at meat, he answers again; which is contrary to the 
custom of his order. This poor man frequently diverts hiin 
self willi angling of trouts ; he lies upon straw, and has no 
bell (as others have) to call him to his devoiion, but only his 
conscience, as he told me.' — Martin's Description of the 
Western Islands, p. 8'2. 

Note III. 
Of Brian's birth strange tales were told. Stanza v. line 1. 

The le<.;end wluch follows is not of the author's invention. 
It is possible he may differ from modern critics, in supposing 
that the records of human superstition, if peculiar to, and 
characteristic of, the country in which the same is laid, are 
a legitimate subject of poetry. He gives, however, a ready 
assent to the nawower proposition, which condemns all 
attempts ot an irregular and disordered fancy to excite ter- 
ror, by accumulating a train of fantastic and incoherent 
horrors, whether borrowed frosn all countries, and patched 
upon a narrative belonging to one which knew them not, or 
derived from the autflor's own Amagination. 

In the present case, therefore, I appeal to the record 
which I iiave transcrilied, with the variation of a very few 
'vords, from the geographical collection made by the laird 
f Macfarlane. l know not whether it be necessarv to re- 
mark, that the miscellaneous concourse of youms and 
uiiiidens on the niirht, and on the spot where the miracle is 
said to have taken place, might, in an uncreduious age, 
have somewhat diminished the wonder which accompanied 
the conception of Gilli-Doir-Maghrevollich. 

'' There is bot two myles from Inverloghie, the church of 
Kilrrialee. in Loghyeld. In anrient tyines there was ane 
church buiided upor ine hill, which was above this church, 
which doth now stand in this tonne ; and ancient men doeth 
•ay, that there was a battell foughten on ane little hill not 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. ItfJ 

l\,- tenth pnrt of a niyle from this church, be certaine men 
wi 'ch thfiy did not know what they were. And long tynie 
thereafter, certaine herds of that toune, and of the nen 
toune, called Jonatt, both were wenches and youthes, did 
,n a tyme conveen with oth.-rs on that hill: and the da_ 
beiii-r soniwhal cold, did gather the bones of the dead men 
that^vere slayne long tyme before in that place, and did 
make a fire to warm them. At last they did .all romoye 
from the Grc except one maid or wench which was verie 
cold, and she did remaine there for a space. She being 
quyetlie her alone, without anie other companie, took up 
the cloths above her knees, or thereby, to warm her; a wind 
did come and caste the ashes upon her, and she was conceiv- 
ed of ane man-cliild. Severall tymes thereafter she was varie 
sioU, and at last she was knowne to be with chyld. And 
then her parents did asic her the matter heiroff, which the 
wench could not weel answer which way to satisfie them 
At last she resolved them with ano answer. As fortune fell 
upon her concerning this marvellous miracle, the chyld 
being borne, his name was called Oili-doir-Ma^hrevollich, 
this Is to say. Black Child. Son to the Bones. So called, 
his grandfather sent him to schooll, and so he was a good 
Bchollar, and godie. He did build this church which doeth 
now st:indin Lochyeld, called Kilmalie."— Jl/ac/arZone, wt 
supra, 11. 188. 

yote IV. 

Yet ne'er again to braid her hair. 
The virgin snood did Mice wear. Stanza v. line i'5. 
The snood, or riband, with which a Scottish lass braided 
her hair, had an emblematical fignlficalion, and applied to 
her maiden character. It was exchanged for the curch, toy, 
or coif, when she pa&sed, by marriage, into the matron state. 
But if the damsel was so unfortunate as to lose pretensions 
to the name of maiden, without gaining a right to that of 
matron, she was neither permitted, to use the snood, nor 
advance to the ■graver dignity of the church. Inold Scottish 
sonss there occur many sly allusions to such misfortune, ai 
in the old words to the popular tune of " Owcr the muiramang 
the heather." 

Down amang the broom, the broom 

Down amang the broom my dearie. 
The lassie lost her silken snood, 

That garb her greet till she was wearie. 

Note V 

The desert gave him visions wild, __ 

Such as might sjiit the spectre's child. Stanza vii. line 1. 
In adopting the legend concerning the birth of the Found 
•T of the Church of Kilmallie, the a-ithor has endeavourea 



188 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 

to trace the effect which such a belief was likely to pro- 
duce, in a barbarous age, on the person to whom it related. 
It seems likely that he must have become a fanatic or an 
imposter, or that mixture of both which forms a more 
frequent character than either of them, as existing sepa 
rately. In truth, mad persons are frequently more anx- 
ious to impress upon oihers a faith in their visions, than 
they are themsel/es confirmed in their reality; as on trie 
other hand, it is diiBcult for the most cool-headed imposter 
long to personate an enthusiastic, without in some degree 
believing what he is so eager to have believed. It was a 
natural attribute of such a cliaracter as the supposed her- 
mit, that he should credit the numerous superstitions with 
which the minds of ordinary highlanders are almost always 
imbued. A few of these are slightly alluded to in this stanza. 
The River Daemon, or River-horse, for it is that form which 
he commonly assumes, is the Kelpy of the lowlands, an evil 
and malicious spirit, delighting to forebode and to witness 
calamity. He frequerjts most highland lakes and rivers; and 
one of his most memorable exploits was performed upon 
the brnks of Loch Vennachar, in the very district which 
form? the scene of our action : it consisted in the destruction 
of a funeral procession with all its attendants. The " noon- 
tide hag," called in Gaelic Glas-lic/i, a tall, emaciated, gi- 
gantic female figure, is supposed in particular to haunt the 
district of Knoidart. A goblin dressed in antique armour, 
and having one hand covered with blood, called, from that 
c.ft unistance, I^ham dearg^ or Red-hand, is a tenant of the 
forests of Glcnmore and Rothemurcus. Other spirits of the 
desert, all frightful in shape, and malignant in disposition, 
are believed to frequent different mountains and glens of 
the highlands, where any unusual appearance, produced 
by mist, or the strange lights that are sometimes thrown 
upon particular objects, never fails to present an apparition 
to the imagination of the solitary and melancholy moun- 
taineer. 

Note VI. 

The fatal Ben- Skit's boding scream. Stanza vii. line 20. 

Most great families in the highlands were supposed tc 
have a tutelar, or ratiier a domestic spirit attacbeo 
them, who took an Interest in their prosperi:^ , ii.ni inti- 
mated, by its wailings, any app'-^^cL'.rig disaster. That of 
Grant of Grant was call''! J^iay Moullach, and appeared 
in the form r^^ ^ i''^^, wuu had her ai m covered with hair. 
iJranto'f Kothemurcus had an attendant called Bodachan- 
dim, or the Ghost of the Hill; and many other examples 
might be mentioned. The Ben-Shie, or Ben-Sckichian, im- 
plies the head, or chief of the Fairies, whose lamentations 
were often supposed to precede the death of a chieftain of 



NOTES TO CANTO rilIRD 189 

particular families. When she is visible, it is in the form of 
an old woman, with a blue mantle, and streaming: hair. A 
superstition of the same kind is, I believe, universallyreceiv 
edby the iiiferior ranks of the native Irish. 

The death of the head of a highland family is also some- 
times supposed to be announced by a chain of lights of dif- 
ferent colours, called Dr'cug, or Death of the Druid. The 
direction which it takes marks the place of the funeral. 

Note VII. 

Sounds, too, had come in midnigM blast., 

Of charffitiif steeds, careering fast 

Along Benharrow's shingly side, 

Where mortal horsemen ne'er might ride. St. vii. line 21. 

A presage of the kind alluded to in the text, is still be- 
lieved to announce deatii to the ancient highland family of 
M'Lcan of Lochbuy. The spirit of an ancestor slain in 
battle, is heard to gallop along a stony bank, and then to 
ride thrice round the family residence, ringing his fairy 
brible, and thus intimating the approaching calamity, iiovr 
easily the eye as well as the ear may be deceived upon such 
occasions, is erident from the stories of armies in the air 
and other spectral phenomena with which history abounds. 
Such an apparition is said to have been v/itn*ssed upon the 
side of Southerfell mountain, between Penrith and Keswick, 
upon the 23d June, 1744, by Iwo persons, William Lancaster 
■.if Blakehills, and Daniel Stricket his servant, whose attesta- 
tion to the fact, with a full account of the apparition, dated 
the 21st July, 1785, is printed in Clarke's Survey of the 
Lakes. The apparition consisted of several troops of horse 
moving in regular order, with a steady rapid motion, mak- 
ing a curved sweep around the fell, and seeming to the 
spectators to disappear over the ridge of the mountain 
Many persons witnessed this phenomenon, and observed 
the last, or last but one, of ihe supposed troop, occasionally 
leave his rank, and pass at a g-allop to the front, \7hen he 
resumed the sume steady pace. This curious appearance, 
making the necessary allowance for imagination, may be 
perhaps sufficiently accounted for by optical deception. Sur- 
vey of the I.ahes, p. 35. 

Su!'ernatur:il intimations of approaching fate are not, I 
believe, confined to highland families. Howel mentions bar- 
ing seen at a lapidary's in 1632, a monumental stone, prepar- 
ed for four per.iiotis of the name o( Oxenham, before the 
death of each cf whom, the inscription stated a white bird to 
have appeared and fluttered around the bed, while the pa- 
tient was in the last agony. Familiar Letters, edit. 1726, p 
247. Glanville mentions one family, the members of which 
received this solemn sign by music, the sound of which 8oati>d 



190 NOTES TO CANIO THIRD. 

from the family residence, and seemed to die in a neighbour 
ing wood; another, that of Captain Wood of Bampton, to 
whom the signal was given by knockin-g. But the most re- 
markable instance of the kind, occurs in the MS. Memoirs of 
Lady Fanshaw, so exemphiry for her conjugal afiection. Her 
husband, sir Richard, and she, chanced, during their abode in 
Ireland, to visit a fri'^nd, the head of a sept, who resided in his 
ancient baronial castle, surrounded with a moat. At midnight, 
she was awakened by a ghastly and supernatural scream, and 
looking out of bed, beheld, by the moonlight, a female face 
and part of the form, hovering at the window. The dis- 
tance from the ground, as well as the circumstance of the 
moat, excluded the possibility that what she beheld was of 
this world. The face was that of a young and rather hand- 
some woman, but pale, and the hair, which was reddish, 
loose and dishevelled. The dress, which lady Fanshaw's 
terror did not prevent her remarking accurately, was that 
of the ancient Irish. This apparition continued to exhibit 
itself for some time, and then vanislied with two shrieks 
similar to that which had firstexcited lady Fanshaw's atten- 
tion. In the morning, with infinite terror, she communicated 
to her host what she had witnessed, and found him prepared 
not only to credit but to account for the apparition. "A 
n-^ar relation of my family," said he, "expired last night in 
this castle. We disguised our certain expectation of the 
event from you, lest it should throw a cloud over the cheer- 
ful reception which was your due. Now, before such an 
event happens in this family and castle, the female spectre 
whom you have seen always is visible. She is believed to be 
the spirit of a woman of .nferior rank, whom one of my 
ancestors degraded himself by marrying, and whom after- 
wards to expiate the dishonour done to his family, he caused 
to be drowned in the castle moat." 

Note VIII. 

IVhose parents in Inch-Calliachwave 
Their shadow's e'er Clan-Alpine's grave. St. viii. line 13 
Inch-Cailliach, the Isle of Nuns, or of old Women, is a 
most beautiful island at the lo.wer extremity of Loch 
Lomond. The church belonging to the former nunnery 
was long used as the place of worship for the parish oi 
Buchannan, but scarce any vestiges of it now remain 
The burial ground continues to be used, and contains the 
family places of sepulture of several neiglibouring clans. 
The monuments of the laitds of Macgregor, and of other 
families claiming a descent frcm the old Scottish king Al- 
pine, are most remarkable. The highlanders are as jealous 
of their rights of sepulchre, as may be expected from a 
people whose whole laws and government, if clanship can 
be called so, turned ui^on the single principle of family 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD m 

descent. '' May his ashes be scattered on the water," wa» 
one of the deepest and most solemn imprecations which they 
used against an enemy. 

Note IX. 

7f.e dun deer'' 3 hide 

On fleeter foot was never tied- Stanza xiii. line 1. 

The present brogue o{ the highlanders is made of half- 
dned leather, with holes to admit and let out the water; 
for walking the moors dry shod is a matter altogether out 
of question. The ancient uskin was still ruder, being 
made of the undressed deer's hide, with the hair outwards, 
a circumstance which procured the higrhlanders the well- 
known epithet of Red-shanks. The process is very accu- 
rately described by one Kldar (himself a highlander) in the 
project for a union between England and Scotland, ad- 
dressed to Henry VIII. " We go a hunting, and after that 
we have slain red-deer, we flay off the skin by and by, and 
setting of our bare-foot on the inside thereof, for. want of 
cunning shoemnkers, by your grace's pardon, we play the 
cobblers, compassing and measuring so much thereof, as 
shall reach up to our ankles, pricking the upper part thereof 
with holes, that the water mny repass where it enters, and 
stretching it up with a strong thong of the same above our 
said aakles. So and please your noble grace, we make 
our shoes. Tht^refore, we using such manner of shcs. the 
rough hairy side outwards, in your grace's domin.ons of 
England we be called Roughfooted Scots^— Pinker ton' a 
History, vol. II. p. 397. 

Note X. 
The dismal Coronach. Stanza xv. line 22. 
The Coronach of the highlanders, like the Ululatuc of 
the Romans and the ULaloo of the Irish, was a wild ex- 
pression of lamentation poured forth by the mourners over 
the body of a departed friend. When the words of it were 
articulate, they expressed the praises of the deceased, and 
the loss the clan would sustain by hi? death. The following 
is a lamentation of his kind, literally translated from the 
Gaelic, to :-ome of the ideas of which the text stands indebt- 
ed. The tune is so popular, that it has since become the 
war march, or Gathering of the clan. 

Coronach on Sir Lauchlan, Chief of Maclean. 

Which of all the Seanachics 

Can trace thy line from the root, up to Paradise, 

But Macvuirih the eon of Ferpu* * 



192 NOTES TO CANTO TOTRD 

No sooner had tMne ancient stately f«e 

Taken firm root in Albin. 

Than one of thy forefathers fell at Harlaw.- 

' Fwas then we lost a chief of dtatiileog n»»/i . ! - 

'Tis no base weed — no plante'', tree, 

Nor a seedling' of last autunin ; 

Nor a saplinsc planted at Beltain ;* 

Wide, wide around, wer*-, «pread its leafy brancsh 

But the topmost bough n lowly laid ! 

Thou ha.=t forsaken u' before Lawaine.| 

Th}' dwelling is the winter house ; — 

Loud, sad, and inighiy is thy death son^ ! — 

Oh ! courteous chawpion of Montrose ! — 

Oh! stately wai/ior of the Celtic Isles! 

Thou shah bu^k.e thy harness on no more ! 

The coronach has for some years past been fuperseded »• 
funerals by the -jsq of the bagpipe, and that also is, liki 
many other h'.^hland jieculiarities, falling- into desuetude 
unless in rem'-te districts. 

Note XI. 

Benleai saw, the Cross of Fire, 

It glO'Kce.d like lightning uy Utrath-Irc- St. xix. line 1 

A glance at the provinc'al map of Perthshire, or at an;y 
large map of Scotland, will trace the progress of the signal 
through tbe small district of lakes and mountains, which, 
in exercise of my poetical psivilege, I have subj.!cled 
to the authority of my imaginary chieftain ; and which 
at the period of my romance, was really occupied by a 
clan who cUimed a descent from Alpine, a clan the most 
unfortunate, and most persecuted, but neither the least 
distinguished, least powerful, nor least brsve of Itic tribes of 
the Gael. 

Slioch non rioghridh duchalsach 
Bha-jhois an Dun-Staiobhinish 
Aig an roubh crun na Halba othus 
'Sag a chiel duchas fast ris. 

The first stage of the Fiery Cross is to Duncrag;,"-an, a 
]-lace near the Brigg of Turk, where a short stream iTivides 
Loch-Achray from Loch Vennachar. From thence, it passes 
towards Callender, and then, turning to the I.-ft up the pass 
of Lennie, is consigned to Norman at th-; cl.api-1 of Saint 
Bride, which stood on a small and romantic knoll in the 
middle of the valley, called Strath-Ire. To.iibea and Arnan- 



Bel's fire, or Whilsiiaday 



NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. IJfi 

davs, or Ard.Tiandave, ore names of places in the vicinity. 
The alarm is then supposed to pass along the laite of Lub 
oaig, i\ncl through the various glens in the d:;.tricl of Hal 
quidder. including the neighbouring tracts of Glenfinlas and 
Strathgarlney. 

Note XII. 

J^ot faster o'er thy heathery braes, 

Balquidder, speeds the inidnipht blaze. St. xxiv. line \ 
It may be necessary to inforn: the southern reader, that 
♦he heath on the Scottish moor-lands is often set fire to. 
that th.? sheep may have the advantatje of the young herb 
age produced in room of the tough old heather plants? This 
custom (execrated by sportsmen^,) produces occasionally thr 
most beautiful nocturnal appearances, similar almost to the 
djfchmice of a volcano. The simile is not new to poeirv 
Tne charge of a warrior, in the fine ballad of Hardykanute. 
li said to be •• like a fire to heather set * 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH 



Note I. 

The Taghairm called^ by which, afar,^ 
Our sires foresaw the events of war. St. iv. line 9. 
Tho highlaoders, like all "nide people, had various super 
jtilious modes of inquiring into futurity. Ono of the mo» 
noted was the Taghairm^ mentioned in the text. A person 
was wra\iped up in the skin of a newly slain bullock, and 
deposited beside a water-fall, or at the bottom of a precipice, 
or ID some other strange, wild, and unusual situation, where 
the scenerv around him suggested nothing but objects of 
liorror. In this situation, he revolved in his mind the ques- 
tion proposed, and whatever was impressed upon him by his 
exalted imagination, passed for the inspiration of the diseni- 
bodied spirits, who haunt these desolate recesses. In soma ot 
the Hebrides, they attributed the same oracular power to a 
large black stone by the sea- shore, which they approached 
with certain solemnities, and considered the first fancy which 
came into their own minds, after they did so, to be the un- 
doubted dictate of the tutelar deity of the stone, and as su.'.h, 
to be, if possible, punctually complied with, Martin has 
recorded the following curious modes of highland augury, in 
which the Taghairm, and its effects upon the person who 
was subject to it, may serve to illustrate the text. 

"It was an ordinary thing among the over curious to 
consult an invisible oracle, concerning the fate of families 
and battles, &c. This wps performed three different ways; 
the first was by a company of men, one of whom being 
detached by lot, was. afterwards carried to a river, which was 
the boundary between two villages ; four of the company laid 
hold on him, and having shut his eyes, they took him by the 
legs and arms, and then tossing him to and again, struck his 
hips with force against the bank. One of them cried out, 
What is it you have got here? another answers, A log of 
birch-wood. The other cries again, Let his invisible friends 
appear from all quarters, and let them relieve him by giving 
an answer to our present demands ; and in a few minutes 
alt' r a number of hule creatures came from the sea, who 
answered the question, and disai)peared suddenly. The ma 
was then set at liberty, and ihry all returned home, to t 
Ihuir measures accord'ing to the prediction of their false pro 
phets • but the poor deluded fools were abused, for the an 
•wer was still ambiguous. This was always practised in th« 
night, and mav lilemllv be called the works of darkness 



196 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

••I had an account from the most intelligent and judicious 
men in the Isle of Skie, that, about sixty-iwo years ago, the 
oracle was thus coniiilteJ only o«ee, and that was in the 
parish of Kilmarlin, on the east side, by a wicked and mis- 
chievous race of people, who are now extinguished, both 
root and branch. 

"The second way of consulting the oracle was by a party 
of men, who first retired to solitary places, remote "from any 
nouse, and there they singled out one of their number, and 
wrapt him in a big cow's hide, which ihey folded about 
him; his whole body was covered with it except his head, 
and so left in this posture all night, until his invisable friend* 
relieved him, by giving a proper answer to the question ia 
band ; which he received, as he fancied, from several persons 
that he found about him all that time. His consorts returned 
to him at the bre.nk of day, and then he communicated his 
news to them ; which often proved fatal to those concerned 
in such unwarrantable inquiries. 

" There was a third way of consulting, which was a con- 
firmation of tlie second above mentioned. The same com- 
pany who put the man int:> the hide, took a live cat and put 
him on a spit; one of the number was employed to turn the 
spit, and one of his consorts inquired of him, What are you 
doing? he answered, I roast this cat, until his friends answer 
the question ; which must be the same that was proposed by 
the man shut up in the hide. And afterwards a very big cat* 
comes, attended by a number of lesser cats, desiring to relieve 
the cat turned upon the spit, and then answers the question. 
If this answer proved tie sare.fc that was given to the man 
in the hide, then it waa *.s.Sen as a confirmation of the other, 
which in this case was believed infallible. 

«' Mr. Alexander Cooper, present minister of North-Vist, 
told me that one John Erach, in the Isle of Lewis, assured 
him, it was his fate to have been led by his curiosity with 
some who consulted this oracle, and thit he was a night 
within the hide, as above mentioned; during which time he 
felt and heard such terrible things, that he could not express 
them; the impression it made on him was such as could 
never go off, and he said for a thousand worlds he would 
never again be concerned in the like performance, for this 
had disordered him to a high degree. He confessed it ingenu- 
ously, and with an air of great remorse, aiid seemed to be 
very penitent under a just sense of so great a crime : he de 
clared this iibout five years since, and is still living in the 
Lewis for any thing I know." Dsscription of the Western 
Isles, p. 110. S.:e also PennanVs Scottish Tour, Toi.Il.p.36l. 

* The reader may have met with the story of the " King 
of the Cats," in Lord Lyttleton's Letters. Itis well known in 
the kighlands as a. nursery tsile. 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. m 

Note II. 

The choicest cf the prey we had, 

When swept our merry men Oallangad. St. iv. line 3. 

1 know not if it be worth observing that this passage i« 
taken almost literally from the mouth of an old highland 
Kerne, or Ketteran, as they were called. He used to narrate 
tii^e merry doings of the good old time when he was fcllower 
of Ghlune Dhu, or Black-knee, a relation of Rob Roy Mac- 
gregor, and hardly his inferior in faine. This leader, on one 
occasion, thought proper tc niak« a descent upon the lower 
part of the Loch-Lomond district, and summoned all the 
heritors and farmers to meet at the kirk of Drymen, to pay 
him black mail, i. e. tribute for forbearance and (irotection. 
As this invitation was supported by a band of thirty or forty 
stout fellows, only one genlk'man, an ancestor, if I mistake 
not, of the present Mr. Grahame, of Gartmore, ventured to 
decline corafiliance. Ghlunn Dhu instantly swept his land 
of ail he could drive away, and among the spoil was a bull 
of the old Scottish wild breed whose ferocity occasioned great 
plague to the Ketierans. " But ere we had reached the Row 
of Dennans,'' said the old man, '• a child niif;hl have scratched 
his ears." The circumstance is a minute one, but it pain ta 
the times when the poorbevve was compelled 

To hoof it o'er as many weary miles. 

With goading pikernen holloing at his heels. 

As e'er the bravest antler of the woods. 

Etkivald. 
Note III. 

That huge cliff, whose ample verge 

Tradition calls the Hero's Targe. i?tanza v. line 5. 

There is a reck so named in the forest of Glenfinlas, by 
which a tumultuary cataract takes its course. This wild place 
IS said in former times to have afforded refuge to an outlaw, 
who was su|;j"ried with provisions by a woman, who lowered 
them down from the brink of the precipice above. His water 
he procured for himself, by letting down a fiaggon tied to a 
string into the black [ool beneath the fall. 

Note IV. 

Or raven on the blasted oak, 

That watching while the deer is broke, 

His morsel claims with sullen croak. Stanza v. line IS 

Every thing belonging to the chase was matter of solemoiVy 
among our ancestors, but nothing was more so tha" the mo-i'' 
31 (;uKini> up, ir, as II was technically "ailed, breaking Ih- 
ilaughtered stag. The forestprhad his allotted portion ; Ihs 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

houadshad a certain allowance ; and, to make the divitix^a nt 
general as possible, the very birds had their share also 
" There is a little c:ristle," says Turberville. •' which is upon 
the spoon nf the brisket, which we call the raven's bone. 
And I have seen in some places a raven so wont ;ind accus- 
tomed to it, that she would never fail to croak and cry for it 
all the time you were in breaking up of the deer, and would 
not depart till she had it." In the very ancient metrical 
romance of Sir Tristrem, that peerless knight who is said to 
have been the very deviser of all rules of chase, did not omit 
this ceremony. 

" The raven he yaf his yiftes 
Sal on the fourched tree." 

Sir Tristrem, 2d ed. p. 34. 
The raven might also challenge bis rights by the book of 
Saint Albans ; for thus s^ays Dame Juliana Berners : — 

Slitteth anon 

The bely to the side from the corbyn bone, 
That is corbine's fee, at the death he will be. 
Johnson, in " The Sad Shepherd," gives a more poetical 
account of the same ceremony : 

Jdarian — He that undoes fain?, 
Doth cleave the brisket bone upon the spoon. 
Of which a little gristle grows — you call it — 
Robin Hoed — The raven's bone. 

Marian Now o'er head sat a raven 

On a sere bough, a grown, great bird, and hoarst, 
Who, all the time the deer was breaking up. 
So croaked and cried for \\, as all the huntsmen, 
Especially old Scathlocke, thought it cmnious." 

Note V. 

Which spills the foremost foeman's life, 
That party conquers in the strife. Stanza vi. line 25 
Though this be in the text described as the response of 
the Taghairm, or Oracle of the Hide, it was of itself an au- 
gury frequently attended to. The fate of the battle was 
often anticipated in the imagination of the combatants, by 
observing which party first shed blood. It is said that the 
Highlanders, under Montrose, were so deeply imbued with 
this notion, that on the morning of the battle of Tippermoor, 
they murdered a defenceless herdsman, whom they found ia 
the fields, merely to secure an advantage of so much conse- 
quence to their party. 

Note VI. 
Mice Brand- Stanza xii. line 1. 
This little fairy tale is founded upon a very curious Danish 
ballad, which occurs in the Kiemve Viser, a collection o<^ 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 199 

heroic songs, first published in 1391, and reprinted in 1695, 
inscribed by Anders Sofrensen, llie collector and editor, to 
Sophia Q,ueen of Denmark. I have been favoured with a 
literal translation of the original, by my learned friend, Mr. 
Robert Jamiesoa, whose deep knowledge of Scandinavian 
antiquities will, I hope, one day be displayed in illustration 
of the history of Scottish Ballad and Sonj, for which no man 
possesses more ample niaterials. • The story will remind the 
readers of the Border Minstrelsy of the tale of The Yo<m^ 
Tamlane. Rut this is only a solitary and not very marked 
instance of coincidence, w hereas several of the other ballads 
in the game collection, dnd exact counterparts in the Kiemp 
Viser. Which may have been the originals, will be a ques- 
tion for future antiquarians. Mr. Jamieson, to secure the 
power of literal translation, has adopted the old Scottish 
idiom, which approaches so near to that of the Danish, as al- 
most to give word for word, as well as line lor line, and in- 
deed in many verses the orlhograjihy alone is altered. As 
Wester Haf, mentioned in the first stanza of the ballad, 
means the tVcst Sea, in opposition to the Baltic, or East Sea, 
Mr. Jamieson inclines to be of opinion, that the scene of the 
disenchantment is laid in one of the Orkney, or Hebride Is- 
lands. To each verse in the original is added a burthen, 
having a kind of meaning of its own, but not applicable, at 
least not uniformly applicable, to the sense of the stanza to 
which it is subjoined : ihi," is very common both ia Danisfa 
and Scottish song. 

THE ELFIN GRAY. 

Translated from the Danish Kmmpe Viser, p. 143, and first 
published iSyi. 
Der Ligger en void i Vester Haf, 

Der agtcr en bonde at bygge : 
Hand forer did baade hog og liund, 
Og ogter dar on vtnteren at ligge. 

(De vide Diur og Diurne udi Skofven.} 



There liggs a wold in Wester Haf, 
There a husband means to b)g;jj. 

And thither he carr.es bnith hawk and hound. 
There meaning the winter to ligg. 

{ The v-ild deer and dacs i'th' shaie out.; 

2. 
He takes wi' him baith hound and cock- 

The langcr he means to stay, 
The Wild deer in the shaws tliat ar« 
May sairly rue the day. 
(The wild deer. &;c.) 



MD NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH 

3. 
He's hew'd the beech, and he's fell'd the aik, 

Sae has he ihe poplar gray • 
And grim in mood was the growsome ell, 
That be sae bald he may, 

4. 
He hew'd him kipplea, he hew'd him Dawfca, 

Wi' mickle moil and haste ; 
Syne speered the elf in the knock that batle. 

" Wha's hacking here sae fast?" 

5. 

Syne up and spak the weiest elf, 

Crean'd as an inmert sma : 
" It's here is come a christian man : 

" I'll flag him or he ga." 

6. 
It's up syne started the ferstin elf, 

And glowr'd about sae grim ; 
" It's well awa' to the husbande's house 

And hald a court on him. 



•* Here hews he down baith skugg and ibaw 

And works us skaith and sccrn : 
His huswife he sail gie to me ; 

They's rue the day they were born I" 

8. 

The elfin a' i' the knock that were 

Gaed dancing in a string ; 
They nighed near the husband's house ; — 

Sac lang their tails did him- 

9. 

The bound he yowls i* the yard ; 

The herd toots in his horn ; 
The earn scraichs, and the cock craws, 

As the husbande had gi'en hun his corn, (a) 

10. 
The Elfin were live score and seven, 
Sae laidiy aud sae grim ; 

V This singular quatrain stands thus tn the ongrinai 
" Hunden hand gior i gaarden ; 

Hiorden tuer i sit horn ; 
.■"ffirnen skriger, og hanen galer, 

Som bonden hafde jifvet sitkorn." 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. Wl 

4nd they the husbandc's guests maun he, 
To eat aud drink wi' him. 

IL 

The husbandc out o* Villenshaw 

At his winuock ihe Elves can see: 
" Help me, now, Jesu, Mary's son ) 

Thir Elves they mint at me 1" 

12. 

Ib every nook a cross he coost, 

In his cLalmer maist ava 
The Elfin a' were fley'd thereat. 

And flew to the wild-wood shaw, 

13. 

And some flew east, and some flew wait, 

And some to the norwart flew ; 
And some they flew to the deep pale dowB. 

There still they are, I trow, (a) 

14. 

it was then the weist Elf. 

In at the door braids he ; 
Agast was the husbande, for that Elf 

For crovR nor sign wad flee. 

15. 

The huswife she was a canny wife, 

She set the Elf at the board ; 
She set afore him bailh ale and meat, 

Wi' mony a well-waled word. 

IC. 

«« Hear thou, Gudeman o' Villenshaw, 

What now I say to thee ; 
Wha bad you bigg within our boundi 

Without the leave o' me ? 

17. 

«• But an thou in our bounds will bi^g 

And bide, as well may be, 
Then thou thy dearest huswife maun 
To me for a lemman gie." 



(a) In the Danish : 

»• Somme floye ostcr, og somme floye vei«i, 

Nogle floye ner paa ; 
Noglc floye ned i dybene dale, 
leZ trcer de ere der endau •* 



'NOTES TO 04NrO rOU&'l'to 
l&. 

Up spak the luckless husbande then, 

As God the grace him gae : 
•' Eline she is ta me sae dear. 

Her thou may na-gate hae." 

19. 

Till the Elfe he answer'd as he couth : 

»'Lat but my huswife be. 
And tak whate.er o' gude or gear 

Is mine, awa wi' thee." 

20. 
"Then I'll thy Eline tak and thee 

Aneath my feet to tread j 
And hide thy goud and white monie 

Aneath my dwalling stead." 



The husbande and the household a' 

In sary rede they join : 
'•Far better that she be dow foxfairuv 

Nor that we a' should lyne." 

22. 
Up, will of rede, the husbande stood, 

Wi' heart fu' sad and sair ; 
And he has gien his huswife Eline 

Wi' the young Elf to fare. 

23. 
Then blyth grew he, and sprang abc»f ; 

He took her in his arm \ 
The rud it left her comley cheek ; 

Her heart was clem'd wi' harm. 

24. 

A waefu' woman then she was ane. 
And the moody tears loot fa : 

"God rue on mee, unseely wife, 
How hard a wierd I fa! 

25. 
•' My fay I plight to the fairest weigb' 

That man in mold mat see ; 
Maun I now mell wi' a laidly £1, 

His light lemman i> be »'' 



He rvnf«>i ance, he minted twice, 
Wae wax' heart that syth : 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

Syne the laidliest fiend he grew that e're 
To mortal ee did kyth. 

27. 
When he the tbirdcn time can mint. 

To Mary's son she pray'd, 
And the la'idly elf was clean awa, 

And a fair knight in his stead. 

28. 

This fell under a linden green, 
That again his shape he found ; 

O' wae and care was the word nae niair, 
A' were sae glad that stound, 

29. 

• O dearest Eline, hear thou this. 
And thow my wife s'all be, 

And a' the goud in merry England 
Sae freely I'll gie thee. 

30. 

••Whan I was but a little wee baern, 

My mitner died me frae ; 
My stepmither sent me awa frae her: 

I turn'd till an Elfin Oray. 

31. 

• To thy husband I a gift will gie, 
Wi' mickle state and gear, 

As mends for Eline his huswife ; 
Thoa's be my hcartis dear." 

32. 
'♦ Thou nobil knyght, we thank now Qoi 

That has freed us frae skaith ; 
Sae wed thu thee a maiden free, 

And joy attend ye baith I 



•• Sin 1 to thee na maik can be, 
My dochter may be thine ; 

And thy gude will right to fulfil, 
Lat this be our propine.'* 

84. 

**l thank the«-, Eline, thou wise won 
My praise thy worth shall ha« ; 

And thy love gin T fail to win. 
Thou here at bame shall star-'' 



•KH NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

35. 

The husbande big-git now on his o*!, 

And nae ane wraught hirn wrang ; 
His dochler wore crown in England, 

And happy liv'd and lang. 

36. 

?fow Eline the husbande's huswife hag 

Cour'd a' her grief and harms ; 
She's mither to a noble queen 

That sleeps in a kingis arms. 

GLOSSARY. 

Stanza 1. TFold, a wood ; a woof*y fastness. Husbande., 
from the Dan. hus, with, and bonde, a villain, or bonds- 
man, who was a cultivator of the ground, and could not 
quit the estate to wiiich he was attached, without the per- 
mission of his lord. This is the sense of the word in the 
old Scottish records. Bigg, bui^fi. I^igg^lm. Z)(ies, does. 

2. Shaw, wood. Sairly, sorely- 

3. Mk, oak. Grousome, terrible. Bald, bold. 

4. Kipplcs, (couples,) beams joined at the top, for support- 
ing a roof, ill building. Bawks, balks ; cross beams.'J/oiZ, 
laborious industry. Speer'd, -asked. Knock, hillock. 

5. fVeiest, smallest. Crean'd, shrunk, diminished ; froru 
the Gaelic, crian, very small. Immcrt, eniniit ; ant. 
Christian, used in the Danish ballads, &c. in contradisr- 
tinction to demoniac, as it is in England, in contradistinc- 
tion to brute, in which sense, a person of the lower class, 
in England, would call a Jew or a Turk, a Christian. 
Fley. frighten. 

6. Olow'd, stared. Hold, hold. 

7. Sktigg, shade. Skaith, harm. 

8. JVighcd, approached. 

9. Yowles, howls. Toots, in the Dan. tude, is applied both 
to the howling of a dog, and the sound of a horn. Scraichs 
screams. 

JO. Laidly, loathly ; disgustingly, ugly. Grim, fierce. 

11. Winnock, window. Mint, aim at. 

12 Coost, cast. Chalmer, chamber. Maist, most, jiva 

of all. 
13. J^orwart, northward. Trow, believe. 
l\. Braids, stirdes quickly forward. Wad, would. 
15. Canny, adroit- J/oni/, many. Well waied, weWchose.^ 

17. Jin, if. Bide, abide. Lemman, mistress. 

18. JVagate, nowise. 

19. Couth, could ; knew how to. Lat be, let alone. OuiU 
goods; property. 

90. .^anea^A, beneath CwoWiw^-sfcarf, dwelling place 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH 203 

21. Sary, sorrowful. Rede, counsel; consultation. Fo7- 
/aim, forlorn; lost, gone. Tyne, (verbneut' be lost, 

perish. 

22. IViU of rede, bewildered in thought ; in the Danish on 
giual '■^ vUdraadige-i" Lat. " inops coitsi/ii." This ex 
press:on is left among the desiderata \\\ the Glossary 
to Ritson's Romances, and has never been explained 
Fare, go. 

23. Hud, red of the cheek. Ciem'd, in the Danish, klcmt , 
(which in the north of England, i-sstil". in use, as the word 
starved is with us ;) brought to a dying state It is used 
by our old comedians. Ilann, grief; as in the original, 
and in tho old Teutonic, English, and Scottish poetry. 

24. kVaefit.,wo(n\. Jl/wo(i?/, sti-ongly and willfully passiotv 
ate. Rcw, take ruth ; pity. Unscehj, unhappy ; unblesl- 
Wierd, fate. Fa, (Isel. Dan. and Swcd.) take; get; ac- 
quire ; procure ; have for my lot. This Gothic verb an- 
swers, in its direct and secondary signification exactly to 
the Latin capio : and Allan Kainsay was right in his de- 
finition of the word. It isquileadilforent wordfrom/a', 
an ablirfiviation of 'fall or befall ; and is the principal 
root in Fangen, to fang, takej or lay hold of. 

25. F«7/, faith. j¥oW, mould" earth. JU«(, mote ; might. 
J»/rtM7i, must. Mell, mix. F.l, an r.\f. This term, in the 
Welch signifies what / uo in itself the power of motion ; a 
moci/ig principle; an intelligence; a spirit ; an angel. 
In the Hebrew, it bears the same import. 

26. Minted, attempted ; meant ; showed a mind, or inten- 
tenticn to. 'J'he original is : 

" Hande mindte liende forst— og andcn gang ; — 

Hun giordis i hiortet sa vee : 
End blef hand den Icdiste diefvel 

Mand kunde ined oyen see. 
Der hande vilde minde den tredie gang," tec. 
Syth, tide ; time. Kyth, appear. 

28. Stound, hoar ; time; moment. 

29. Merry, (old Teut. mere,) famous ; renowned ; answer- 
ing, in its etymoligical meaning, exactly to the Latin 
mactus. Hence merry men. as the address of a chief to 
his fi illowers ; meaning not men of mirth, but of renown. 

31. Mends, 2in\enAs\ recompense. 

33. Maik, match; peer; equal. Propine, pledge; gift. 

35. oe, an island of the seconrfmagnitude ; an island of tlie 
first magnitude being called a land, and one of the third 
magninide a holm. 

36. Ceur'd, recover'd- 



906 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

THE GHAIST'S WARNIXG. 

Translated from the Danish Kcempe Viser. y, 7-21. 

Pp the ptrmission nf Mr. Javiieson, thi.t ballad is added 
from the siune curious collection, ft contatHS some pas 
sages of gre.at pathos. There are tieo or three verses 
omitted. 

Svevd Dyring hand rider sig op under /»e, 

{Varcjeg selver uvg^) 
Derfa^sle hand sig saa ven en moe. 

(Slig Ujstr.r udi lunden at ride,) <^-c. 

Child Pyrini^ has ridden him up under oe,* 

{.^nd O gin I were young!) 
There he hris wt-dded sae fair a may. 

(/' the greenwood it lists me to ride.) 
The^ith^r they liv'd for seven lang^ year, 

(jind O, d-c.) 
And they seven Dairns r.ae gotten in fere 

(/' tke greenwood, &c.) 

Sae Death's cor/ie there intill that stead, 
And tliat winsun lily flower is dead. 

That swain he has ridden him up under oe. 
And syne he has married anither may. 

He's married a may, and he fessen her hame •, 
But she was a j^rim and a laidly dame. 

Whan into the castell court drave she. 

The seven bairns stuid wi' the tear in their ee 

N"or ale nor mead to the bairnies slie ^ave ; 
" But hunjer and hate frae me ye*s have." 

She took frae them the bowsterblae, 
And said, •• Ye sail lig» i' the bare strae ."' 

She took frae them the groff wax light ; 
Says, "Now ye sail lig i' the mark a' night!" 

'Twas lang i' i!ie night, and the bairnies grat ; 
Their milher she under the moois heard that : 



*•* Under oe." The original expression has been pre- 
served here and elsewhere, because no oUier could be found 
to supply its place. There is just as much meaning in it in 
the translation as in the original ; but it is a standard 
Danish ballad phrase, and, as such, it is hoped, will b« •!- 
bwed to oass 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. ? 

fhdt heard the wife under the card that lay: 
*' Forsooth maun I to my bairnics gae !" 

That wife can stand up at our lord's knee, 
And " may I gang and ray bairnies see i** 

She prigf^ed sue sair, and she prigged sae lang. 
That he at the last gae her leave to gang. 

•« And thou sail come back when the cock does craw 
For thou nae langer sail bide awa." 

Wi* her banes sae stark, a bowt she gave ; 
She's riven baith wa' and marble gray.* 

Whan near to the dwalling she can gang, 
The dogs they wow'd till the lift it rang-j 

Whan she cam till the castell yett, 
Her eldes* dochter stood thereat. 

" Why stand ye here, dear dochte " mine ? 
How are »ma briihcrs and sisters thine f" 

*• Forsooth ye're a woman baith fair aod fine ; 
But ye are uae dear mither mine." 

**Och ! how should I be fine or fair J 

My cheek it is pa'e, and the ground's ir.y lair." 

*«My mither was white, wi' lire sae red ; 
But thou art wan, and liker ane dead." 

♦• Och ! how should I be white and red, 
Sae lang as I've beea cald and dead ?" 

Whan she cam till th3 chalmer in, 

Down the bairn's cheeks, the tears did rin. 

She buskit the tane, and she brush'd it there ; 
She kera'd and plaited the tither's hair. 

Till her eldest dochter sync said she, 

" Ye bid Child Dyring come here to me.** 

Whan he cam to the chalmer in, 
Wi' angry mood she said to him ; 



* In this stanza stark agrees with banet, and net wht 
bowt- The original is, 

" Hun skod op sine modige been, 
Der revenede muur og graa marmorsteen." 
t The original of this stanza, as well as the foregoiog, u 
rerjr fine ■ 

•• Der hun gik igennem den by, 
De hunde de tude saa hojt i aky.'* 



SOB NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

•«I left ye routh o' ale and bread ; 
My bairnies quail for hunger and need. 

''I left ahlnd me faraw bowsters blae ; 
My bairnies are liggin i' the bare strae 

'' I left ye sae mony a groff wax light ; 
My bairnies ligg i' the mark a' night. 

•' Gin aft I come back to visit thee, 
Wae, dowy, and weary thy luck sail be." 

" Up spak little Kirstin in bed that lay ; 
'•To thy bairnies I'll do the best I may ' 

Ay whan the/ heard the dog nirr and bell, 
V Sac gae they the bairnies bread and ale, 

Ay whan the dog did wow, in haste 

They cross'd and sain'd themselves frae the gbaitt. 

Ay whan the little dog yowi'd wi' fcap 

They shook at the thought that the dead wab ncar> 

(/' t/ie ffreenwood it listame to ride,) 

or, 
{Fair words sae mony a heart they cheer'} 

GLOSSARY. 

Stanza 1. Jifay, maid. Lists, pleases. 

2. bairns, cliildren. /ji/erc, togetlier. ^tn5U», engaging 
giving joy, (oldTeut. . 

3. Stead, place. 

4. Syyie, then. 

5. Fessen, fetched ; brought 

6. Drave, drove. 

7. Dule, sorroAV. Dotit, fear. 

9 Bowster, boLster ; cushing ; bed. Blae, blue. Strae,Htran 

10 Gro^, great ; large in girt. JJfar A, mirk ; dark. 

11. Langf theniffht,laie. Graf, wept. JHools, mould; 
earth, 

12. Eard, earth Gae, go. 

14. Prigged, entreated earnestly and perseveringly 
Oang, go. 

15. Craw, crow. 

16. £arjcs, bones. Stark,s\.rong- i?owf, bolt ; elastic spring 
like that of a bolt or arrow from a bow. Riven, slJil 
asunder. Wa\ wall. 

17. JTowj'd, howled. Z-t/e, sky ; firmament ; air. 

18. Yett, gate. 

19. Sma, small. 

22. iire, complexion 



NOTES TO aANTO FOURTH. «99 

23. Cold, cold. 

24. Till, to. Rin, run. 

25. Buskit, dressed. KenCdt combed. Tiiher, the other. 

28. Routk, plenty. Quail, are quelled ; die- JVesd^ want 

29. Jihind, behind. Braw, brave ; fine. 
31. Dowij, corrowfiil. 

33. J^Tirr, snarl. Bell, bark. 

34. Sained, blessed ; literally signed with the sign of the 
cross. Gkaiat. ghost. 

Note VII. 

Up "poke tJie moody Elfin Kin^^ 

Who mon'd within the hill. btanza xiii. line 5. 

Id a long dissertation upon the Fairy superstition, pub« 
tjshed in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, the mosr 
valuable part of which was supplied by my learned and 
indefatigable friend, Dr. John Leyden, rncst of the circum 
stances are collected which can throw light upon the popu- 
lar belief which even yet prevails respecting them io 
Scotland. Dr. Grahame, author of an entertaining work 
upon the Scenery of the Perthshire highlands, already fre- 
quently quoted, has recorded with great accuracy, the pe- 
culiar tenets held by the highlanders on this topic, in the vi 
cinity of Loch-Katrine. The learned author is inclined to 
deduce the whole mythology from the Druidical system — an 
opinion to which there are many objections. 

'' The Daoine Ski," or men of peace of the highlanders, 
though not absolutely malevolent, are believed to be a 
peevish repining race cf beings, who, possessing themselves 
but a scanty portion of happiness, are supposed to envy 
mankind their more complete and substantial enjoyment. 
They are supposed to enjoy, in their subterraneous recesses, 
a sort of shadowy happiness, — a tinsel grandeur; which, 
however, they would willingly exchange for the more solid 
|oys of mortality. 

"They arc believed to inhabit certain grassy eminences, 
where they celebrate their nocturnal festivities by the light 
■>f the moon. About a mile beyond the source of the Forth, 
»bove Lochcon, there is a place called Coirshfan, or the 
Cove of the Men of Peace, which is still supposed to be a 
'avourite place of their residence. In the neighbourhood 
are to be seen many round, conical eminences ; particularly 
)ne, near the head of the lake, by the skirts of which many 
are still afraid to pass after sunset. It is believed, that if, 
on Halloweve, any person, alone, goes rouna one of these hills 
nine times ; towards the left hand (sinistrorsum,) & door 
•hall open, by which he shall be admitted into their subter- 
raneous abodes. Many it is said of mortal race, have been 
entertained in their secret recesses. There they have been 
aeceived into the most splendid apartments, and regaled with 



MO NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

the most sumptuous banquets, and dilicious wines. Theirf*' 
males surpass the daun;hf;rs of men in beauty. The seem- 
ingly happy inhabitants pass their time in festivity, and io 
da-ncing lo notes of the softest music. But unhappy is the 
mortal who joins in iheir joys, or ventures to partake cf their 
dainties. By this indulgence, he forfeits for ever the society 
of men, and is bound down irrevocably to the condition of a 
Shi'ich, or man of peace. 

"A woman, as is reported in the highland tradition, was 
conveyed, in days of yore, into the secet recesses of the 
men of peace. There she was recognized by one who had 
formerly been an ordinary mortal, but who had, by some fa- 
tality, become associated with the Shi'ichs. This ac 
quaintance, still reiainin:^ some portion oi human benevo- 
lence, warned her of her danger, and counselled her, as she 
falued her liberty, to abstain from eating and drinking with 
them, for a certain space of time. She complied with the 
counsel of her friend ; and when the period assigned was 
elapsed, she found herself again upon earth, restored to the 
society of mortals. It is addeJ, that when she examined the 
viands which had been presented to her, and which had ap- 
peared so tempting to the eye, they were found, now that 
the enchantment was removed, to consistonly of the refuse ot 
the earth."— p. 107—111. 

Note Vni 

Why sounds yon stroke on beach and oak, 

Our moonlight circle's screen ? 
Or who Cornell here to chase the deer, 

Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? Stanza xiii. line 9 

It has been already observed, that fairies, if not positively 
malevolent, are capricious, and easily offended, They are, 
like other proprietors of forests, peculiarly jealous of their 
rights of vert and »C7£W0«, as ai)pears from the cause of of 
fence taken, in the original Danish ballad. This jealousy 
was also an attribute of the northern Z)Mer^ar, or dwarfs ; 
to many of whose distinctions the fairies seem to have suc- 
ceeded, if, indeed, they are not the same class of beings. In 
the huge metrical record of fJerman chivalry, entitled the 
Helden-Buch, sir Hildebrand, and the other heroes of whom 
it treats, are engaged in one of their most d<^fperate adv<".n- 
tures, from a rash violation of the rose-garden of an Elfin, or 
Dwarf King. There are yet traces of a belief in this 
worst and most m^alicious order of fairies among the Border 
wilds. Dr. Leyden has introduced such a dwarf into his 
ballad entitled the (Jout of Keeldar, and has not forgot hi« 
characteristic detestation of the chase. 

"The third blast that young Keeldar blew, 
Still stood the limber fern. 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. Ml 

And a wee rnan, of swarthy hue, 
Upstarted by a cairn. 

" His russet weeds were brown as heatn, 

Tliat clothes the upland (ell ; 
And the hair of s head was frizzly red 

As the purple ealher-beil. 

*• An urchin, cl; . iu prickles red, 

Clung cow'r...^ to his arm ; 
The hounds they howl'd, and backward fled 

As struck by fairy charm. 

'•Why rises high the stag-hound's cry. 

Where stag-hcund ne'er should be ? 
Why wakes that horn the silent morn, 

Without the leave of me." 

♦' Hrown dwarf, that o'er the muirland strays. 

Thy name to Keeldar tell !" — 
'The Brown Man of the Muirs, who stays 
Beneath the heather bell." 

'"Tis sweet beneath the heather-bell 

To live in autumn brown ; 
And sweet to hear the lav'rocks swell 

Far, far from tower and town. 

• But wo betide the shrilling horn. 

The chase's surly cheer I 
And ever that hunter is forlorn, 
Whom first at morn I hear." 

The poetical picture here given of the Ducrgar corres- 
ponds pynctlv with the following Northunibriiin k-gend, 
with which I was lately favoured by my learned and kind 
friend, Mr. Siirlees of Muinforth, who has bestov-red inde- 
fatigable labour upon the antiquities of the Knglish border 
counties. The subject is in itst If so curious, that the length 
of the note will, I hope, be pardoned, 

'•I have 0!ily one record to offer of the appearance of our 
Northumbrian Ihi'-rgar. My narratix isElizabelli Cockburn, 
an old wife of Offrion, in this cou.nly, whose credit, in a 
case of this kind, will not, I hope, be much impeached, ivliei) 
I add, that she is, by her dull neighbours, supposed lo b- 
occasionally insane, but, by herself, to be at ibose limes en 
dowed with the faculty of seeing visions and spectral ap 
pearanccf, which shun the common ken. 

»' [n the yer.r before the gre:it rebellion, two young men 
^om Newcastle were sporting on the high nioors above Kl». 
don, and after pursuing their game several hour.= , sat down 
to dine, in a green glen, near one of th<- mountuin streams 



S12 NOTES TO CANTO FO JRTH. 

After th«ir ce, ast, the youngnr lad ran to the brook foi 
wa'iT, am! nfu-r slooping^ to drink, was surjiri.sed on lifting 
up his head iig'ain, by th'; appearance ol a brown dwarf, who 
stood on :i <T:iii» covered with brackens, across the burn 
This extra(;rdiiiary personage did not a|)pear to be above 
half the siatiire ol' a common man, but was uncommonly 
stout and broad built, havings the appearance of vast strength. 
His dress was enlirfly brown, the colourof the braclcens, and 
his head covered with frizzled red hair. His countenance 
was expressive of the most savajje ferocity, and his eye? 
glared like a bull. It seems, lie addressed the young man 
first, threateiiiiis: liini with his vengeance, for having tres- 
passed fin hi<: ili'trie.-ines, and a.skini^ him, if he knew in whose 
presence lie stood ' The j^oiith replied, that he now supposed 
hitii chr lord of tiie moors; thai he offended through ig- 
norance ; and ..iffen-d to brin"; turn the game he had killed. 
The dwarf vvas a little mollitied by this submission, but re- 
marked, that noli'iing could be more offensive to him than 
such an offer, :<= he c<!r)5idered the wild aninmli as his sub- 
jects, and nevrr (aiitd to avenge their destruciion. He con- 
descended fiir'her to inform him, that he was, like himself, 
mortal, though of y<;ar5 far exceeding the lot of common hu- 
manity ; and {what I slioLdd not have had an idea of,) thathe 
ho.oed ic.r salvaiion. Me never, he added, fed on any thing 
that had life, biit lived, in the sum-ner, on whortleberries, 
and, in the \v iiier, on mitsand apples, of which he had great 
store it) thf woods -Finally, h:; invited his new acquaint- 
ance to accomp-riny him home, and partake his hospitality; 
an offer which the yoii'h was on the point of accepting, and 
was just going to spring flcr(>S3 the brook, (which if he had 
done, says K'.izat)>,'ih, the dwarf would certninlv have torn 
him in pie(vs,) when his fool wasurrested by the voice of his 
companicn, who thought he tarried long ; and on looking 
round aaain, "the wee brown man was flfd." The story 
adds, that he was i .iprudent enough to sUghl the admoni- 
tion, an i to sport over the moors, on hi? way homewards : 
but, soon after his retorn, he fell into a lingering disorder, 
and died v.ithin the year." 

Note IX. 

Or icko may dare on mold to loear 

The fain/s fatal ^rrecri. Stanza xiii. line Vs 

As the Dnoinc Slu\ or n^f n of peace, wore green habits, 
they were siij>p:ised to lake offence when any mortals ven- 
tured, to iissiune their favourite colour. Indeed, from some 
reason, which has been, perhaps originally a general super 
stition, ^/-Cf/rt is held in Scotland to be unlucky to pMrticular 
tnbes r.nd counties. The Caitlmess men, who hobi this be 
li;f, alledge, as a reason, that thtir band.s wore tiliat colour 
wa«a they were cut off at the battle of Flodden ; and loJ 



NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 213 

the same reason they avoid crossiri<f the Ord on a Monday, 
beinj the d;iy of the week on which theTr ill-omened array 
set toith. Cireen is also disliked by those of the nnme of 
Oe?ih-y ; but more especially it is held fatal to the wliole 
clan of Grahame. It is remembered of ^n aged gentleman 
of that name, that when his horse fell in a fox chase, he ac- 
counted for it at once, by observing, that the whip-cord at- 
tached to his lash was of this unlucky colour. 

Note X. 

For thou wert christened man. Stanza xiii. line ItJ. 

The Elves were supposed greatly to envy the privileges 
acquired by Christian imitations, and they gave to those 
aiortals who had fallen into their power, a certain precedence, 
founded upon this advantageous distinction. Tamlane, in 
the old ballad, describes his own rank in the fairy procession. 

"For I ride on a milk-white steed, 

And aye nearest the town ; 
Because 1 was a christened knight, 

They gie me that renown." 

I presume, that in the Danish ballad, the obstinacy ot the 
" Weiest Elf," who would not flee for cross or sign, is to be 
derived from the circumstance of his having been ''christen- 
ed man." 

How eager the elves were to obtain for their offspring the 
peroeaiives of Christianity, will be proved by the following 
story. " In the district called Haga, in Iceland, dwelt a no- 
bleman called Sigward Forster, who had an intrigue withono 
of the subterranean females. The Elt be«otne pregnant, and 
exacted from her lover a firm promise that he would procure 
the baptism of the infant. At the appointed lime, the mother 
came to the church-yard, on the wall of which she placed a 
golden cup, and a stole for the priest, agreeably to the cus 
tom of making an offering at baptism. She then stood a little 
apnrt. When the priest left the church, he inquired the 
meaning of what he saw, and demanded of Sigward, if he 
avowed himself the father of the child- But Sigward ashamed 
of the connection, denied the paternity. He was then inter- 
rogated if he desired that the child should be baptized ; but 
this also he answered in the negative, lest by such request. 
he should admit himself to be the father. On which the child 
was left untouched, ami imbaplized, AVhereiipon the mother, 
in extreme wrath, snatched up the infant and the cup, and 
retired, leaving the priestly cope, of which fragments are still 
in preservation. But this female denounced and imposed 
upon Sigward, and his posterity to the ninth giMieraiion, a 
singfulai disease, with which many of his descendants are 
afflicted at this day-'" Thus wrote Einar Gudmund, pastor 
nf the parish of 6arpsdale in Iceland, a man profouodN 



214 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

rersed in learning, from whose manuscript it was extracted 
by the learned Torfaius. — Histuria Urolji Krakii, Hafnim^ 
1715, prefatio. , 

Note XI. 

,^nd ffaily shines the fai^y land; 
But all is glistening show. Stanza xv. line 5. 

No fact respecting' Fairy-land seems to be better ascertain 
ed than the fiintaslic and illusory nature of their apparent 
pleasure and splendour. It has been already noticed, in tbe 
fotxner quotations from Dr. Grahanic's entertaining volume, 
and may be confirmed by the following highland tradition. 
" A woman whose new-born child had been conveyed by 
them into their secret abodes, was also carried thither hcrfielf, 
to remain, however, only until she could suckle her infant* 
She, one day, during this period, observed ihe Shi'ichs busily 
employed in mixing various int^redients in a boiling caldron ; 
and, as soon as the composition was prepared, siie remarked 
that they all carefully anointed their eyes with it, laying the 
remainder aside, for future use. In a moment when they 
were all aOsent, she also attempted to anoint her eyes with 
the precious drug, but had time to apply it to one eye only, 
when the Daoine Shi returned. But with that eye she was 
henceforth enabled to see every thing as it really passed iii 
their secret ;>bodes: — she saw every object, not as she 
hitlierto had done, in deceptive splendour and elegance, but 
in its genuine colours and forms. The gaudy ornaments of 
the apartments were reduced to the wails of a gloomy ca- 
vern. Soon at'ter, having discharged her office, she was 
dismissed to her own home. Still, however, she retained the 
faculty of seeing, with her medicated eye, every thing ihat 
was done, any where in her presence, by the deceptive art of 
the order. One day, amidst a throng of people, she chanced 
to observe the ShiHch, or man of peaee, in whose possession 
she had left ihe child ; though to every other eye invisable, 
Prompted by maternal affection, she inadvertantly accosted 
hirn, and began to inquire after the welfare of her child. 
The man of peace, astonished at being thus recognised by one 
of monal race, demanded how she had been enabled to dis- 
cover him. Awed by the terrible frown of his countenance, 
she acknowledged what she had done. He spat in her eye, 
and extinguished it for ever." GraJiame's Sketches, p. 116— 
118. It Js very remarkable that this story, translated by Dr. 
Grahame from popular Galic tiadition, is to be found in the 
Olia Imperialia of Gervase of Tilbury- A work of great in- 
terest migiit be compiled upon the origin of popular fiction, 
and the tr.msmlssion of similar tales from age to age, and 
from country to country. The mythology of one period 
would then appear to pass into the romance of the next cen- 
tury, and that into the nursery-tale of the subsequent age*. 



NOTES TO CANTO roURTH. 'J15 

Such an investigaiion, while it went greatly to diminish our 
ideas of the richness of human invention, would also show, 
that these fictions, however wild and childish, possess such 
charms fof the populace, as enable thom to penetrate into 
countries unconnected by manm^rs and language, and having 
no apparent intercourse to afford the means of transmis 
sion. It would carry me far beyond my botmds, to produce 
instances of this community of fable, among n:itions who ne- 
ver i)orrowed from cpch other any thing intrinsically worth 
learning. Indeed, the wide diffusion of popular fiction may 
be compared lo the facility with which straws and feathers 
are dispersed abroad by the wind, while vahiahle metals 
cannot be transported without trouble and labour. There 
lives, I believe, only one gentleman, whose unlimited ac- 
quaintance with this subject might enable him to do it jus- 
tice ; I mean my friend Mr. Francis Douce, of the British 
Museum, whose usual kindness will, I hope, pardon my men- 
t^oni.^g his name, while on a subjt^f t so closely connected 
with his extensive and curious researches. 

-Vote XII 

his Highland cheer, 

The hardened fitsh of mountain-deer. St. xxxi. 1. I. 

The Scottish highlanders, in former times, had a concise 
mods of cooking their venison, or rather of dispensing with 
cooking it, which appears greatly to have surprised the 
French, whom chance made acquainted with it. The Vi- 
dame of Chartres, when a hostage in England, during the 
reign of Edward VI, was permitted to travel into Scotland, 
and penetrated as far as the remote Highlands, {au fin fond 
dea Sauvages.) After a great hunting parlv, at which a 
most wonderful quantity of game was destroyed, he saw 
these Scottish savages devour a part of their venison raw, 
witlwut any t'urther preparation than compressing it between 
two baltons of wood, so as to force out the blood, and render 
it extremely hard. This they reckoned a great delicacy ; and 
when the Vidame partook of it, his compliance with their 
Sute rendered him extremely popular. This curious trait 
cf manniTs was communicated by Woiis. de Montmorency, 
a great friend of the Vidacr.e. to Brantoine, by whom it is 
recorded in Vies des Hommes Illustres, Discours Ixxxiic. 
art. 14. The process by which the raw venison was render- 
ed eatable is described very minutely in the romance of 
Perceforest, where Estonne, a Scottish knight-errant, hav- 
inar slain a deer, says to his companion Claudius; " Sire, or 
mangerez vous et moy aussi. Voire si nous anions de feu, dit 
Claudius. Par I'ame de mon pere, dist Kslonne, ie vous 
atourneray et cuiray a la maniere de nostre pays comme pour 
cheualier errant. Lors tira soncspee etsen viiit a labranche 
dung; arbre, et y fait vng grant trou, et puis fend la branche 



«16 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 

Aien deux jiiedz et boiite la cuisse du ce rf entredeux, et ptJij 
prent le iilcol de son cheval eteii !yc la branche et destraint 
si fori que !e Skng et les humerus de la chair saillent hors et 
demeure In chair doulce et seiche. Lors prent la chair et 
oite ius Ic cuir ei la chaire derneure aussi blanche comme si 
ce fenst dung chappon. Dont di'it a Claudius, Sire ie la vous 
ay cuisie a la guise do mon pays, vous en pouez manger 
hardyenient, car ie mnngcray premier. Lors met sa main a sa 
selle en vnglieuqnily auoit, et tire horsselet poiidre de poiure 
etgingembre, rnesle ensemble, et le lecte dessus, et le frote 
sus bien fort, puis le couppe a moytie, et tn doniie a Claudius 
I'une des pieces, et puismorten I'auire aussi sauoureusement 
quil est aduis que il en feist la pouldrc voller. Q,uant Claudius 
veil quil le mangeoit de tel goust il en print grant fain et com- 
mence a manger tresvoulenliers, et dist a Estonne : Par Taiic 
ie moy, ie ne manjeay oncquesmais de chair atournee do 
telle guise : mais doresenauant ie ne me retourneroya pas 
hors de moncheniin par auoir la cuite. Sire, dist Kstonne, 
quans ie suis ens desers d'Escosse, dont ie suis seigneur, ie 
cheuaucheray huit iours ou quinze que io n'entreray en 
chastel ne en maison, et si ne verray teu ne personne » viani 
fors que bestes, sauuages, et de celles mangeray atournccsen 
cesie maniere.et mie.ulx me plaira que la viande de I'empe 
reur. Ainsi ien vent mangeant et cheuauchant iusques 
adonc quilz arriucreiil sur une moult belle f^ntaine qui 
estoit en vne valee. Q,uant Estonne la vit, ii dist a Claudius, 
allons boire a ceste fontaine. Or beuiions, dist Estonne, du 
boire que le "rant Dieu a pcurueu a tou, toutcs gens, et qui 
me plaist niieulx que les ceruoises d' Angleterre," — La Tref 
elegante Ilystoire du tresnoble Roy Ferceforesi- Paris 15SL 
fol. tome I. fol. Iv. vers 

After all, it may be doubted whether la Chaire n«?*tree, for 
so the French call the venison thus summarily prepared. 
'Vas any thing more than a mere rude kind of deer bam 



>vnfc:s TO CANTO FIFTH 



Note 1. 

JV*ot then ctawt-^d eovereiffnty kis dut, 

fVkile jilbany, with feeble hnnd, 

Ht'la burrow'd trunckeon of command. St- vi, line 12. 

There is scarcely a more disorderly period in Scottish 
history than that which succeeded the battle of ^'i(^dden, 
and occupied the miflority of James V. Fsuds if ancient 
standinif broke out like old wounds, and every quarrel 
amoiij the independent nobility, which occurred daily, and 
almost hourly, gave rise to fresh bloodshed. '» There arose,'* 
says Piscotle, ''c^reat trouble and deadly f-uxls in many 
parts of Scotland, both in th»s north and west parts. The 
master of Forbes, in the north, glew the I.aiid of Meldrura 
under tryst, (i. e. at an agreed and secure meeting :) Like- 
wise the Laird of Drumnielziar slew t'le t-ctd Ktemitiga«tbe 
hawking; and likewise, there was slaughter among many 
othergreat lords." p. 131. Nor was the matter much mended 
under jovernment of the P'ari of Anirusj for though he 
caused the king to ride through all Scotland, '•under pre- 
tence afld colour of justice, to punish thief and traitor, none 
were found ;;r';aier than was in their own company And 
none at that time durst strive with a Dousi^Iks, nor yet with 
a Douglas's man, for if they did, they ^otlhe worst There 
fore, none durst piainzie of no entortioa, theft^ reifl, noi 
slaughter done to them by the Douglases, or their men : in 
that cause they were not heard so lon-j as the l,>ou;;)a$es be^ 
the court in guiding." — Ibid. p. 133- 

Note 11. 

TTit Gael, of plain and river hetr, 

Shall, wttti strong hand, redeem Ma tkare. St vn 1. 81 

The ancient Highlanders veri6ed in their pract'Ce lbs 
fines of Gray: — 

An iron race the mountain cliffs maintain, 

Foes to the gentlei genius of the plain ; 

For where unwearied sinews must be found. 

With side-long plough to quell the flinty ground . 

To turn the torrent'? swift descending flood ; 

To tame the savage, nishing from tlie wood , 

What wonder if, to patient valour train'd, 

They guard with spirit what by strength they gun'd 



ne NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 

And vliile their rocky ramj^arts round they see 
The rough abode of want and liberty, 
(As lawless force from confidence will grow,) 
Insult the plenty of the vales below. 

Frag^mcnt on the Alliance of Education and Govern 
ment. 

So hr, indeed, was a Creafk or foray from being held dis- 
g^raceAil, th?t a younjj chie.f was always expected to show 
his talents for command so soon as he assumed it, by leading 
bis clan on a successful enterprise of lliis nature, either 
ag-aJEst a neighbouring sept, for whicn constant feuds usually 
furnished an apology, or against the Sassenach, Saxons or 
lo wlanders, for which no apology was necessary. The Gael, 
great traditional historians, never forgot tl'^' ih- liw'ands 
had, at some remote period, been the property ji ;|jMr (. eltic 
forefathers, which furnished an ample vindication of all the 
ravages that ihey could make on the unfortunate districts 
which lay within their reach. Sir James Grant of Grant is 
in possession of a letter of apology from Cameron of Lochiel, 
whose men had committed some depredation upon a farm 
called Moines, occupied by one of the Grants. Lochiel 
assures Grant, that however the mistake had happened, his 
instructions were precise, that the party should foray the 
province of Moray, (a lowland district,) where, as he cooly 
observes, '* all men take their prey." 

Note III 



■I only meant 



To show the reed on which you leant, 
Deeming this path yon might pmsue 
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. St. xi. line IS. 

This incident, like some other passages in the poem, illus- 
trative of the character of the ancient frael, is not imaginary, 
but borrowed from fact. The Highlanders, with the incon- 
sistency of most nations in the same state, were alternately 
capable of great exertions of generosity, and of cruel revenge 
and perfidity. The following story I can only quote from 
tradition, but with such an assurance from those by whom it 
was communicated, as permits me little doubt of its authen- 
ticity. Early in the last century, John Gunn, a noted C!athe- 
rr-.n, or highland robber, infested Inverness-shire, and levied 
black mail up to the walls of the provincial capital. A garri- 
son was then maintained in Ihe castle of that town, and their 
pay (country banks being unknown,) was usually transmitted 
in specie, under the guard of a small escort. It chanced that 
the officer that rominanded this little party was unexpected- 
ly obliged to halt, about thirty miles from Inverness, at a 
miserable inn. About nightfall, a stranger, in the highland 
dress, and of very prepossessing appearance, entered >he 



NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 219 

same house. .Separate accommodations being impossible, the 
Englishman offered the newly arrived guest a part of his sup- 
per, which was accepted with reluctance. By the conver- 
sation he found his acquaintance knew well all the passes of 
the country, which induced him eagerly to request his com- 
pany on the ensuing morning. He peither disguised his busi- 
ness and charge, nor his apprehension of that celebrated free- 
booter, John Gunn. The highlander hesitated a moment, and 
then frankly consented to be his guide, forth they set in the 
Knorning ; and in travelling through a solitary and dreary 
^len the discourse again turned on John Gunn, " Would 
;you like to see him f" said the guide ; and without waiting an 
answer to this alarming qneslioHj he whistled, and the Eng- 
lish officer, with his small party, were surrounded by a body 
of high landers, whose numbers put resislance out of ques- 
tion, ami who were all well armed. "Stranger," resumed the 
guide, "I am that very John Gimn by whom you feared to 
be intercepted, and not without cause; for I came to tne inn 
last night with the express purpose of learning your route, 
that I and my followers might ease you of your charge by the 
road. But I am incapable of betraying the trust you reposed 
in me, and liaving convinced you that you were in my power, 
I can only dismiss you unplundered and uninjured." He 
thi'n gave the officer directions for his journey, and disap- 
peared with his party, as suddenly as they had presented 
themselves. 

Note IV. 

For train'' d abroad his arms to wield, 

Fitz- James's blade was sicoi i and shield. St. xv. 1. S. 
The use of defensive armoui , and particularly of the 
buckler or target, was general in Q,ueen Elizabeth's time, 
although thai of the single rapier seems to have been oc- 
casionally practised much earlier.* Rowland Yorke, how- 
ever, who betrayed the fort of Zulphin to the Spaniards, for 
which good service he was aflerwaid poisoned by them, is 
said to have been the first who brought the rapier-fight into 
general use. Fuller, spcnhing of the Swashbucklers, or 
biillies of Queen Elizabeth's time, says, '' \Vest-Smithfield 
was formerly called Ruffian's Hail, where such men usu 
ally met, casually or otherwise, to try niuiieries with sword 
and buckler. Wore were frightened than hurt, mi>re hurt 
than killed therewith, it being accounted unmanly to strike 
beneath the knee. But since that desperate traitor Row- 
land Yorke first introduced thrusting with rapiers, sword 
and buckler are disused." In The Two Angry Women of 
Abingdon, a comedy, printed in 1599, we have a pathetio 
complaint: — "Sword and buckler nght begins to grow out 
ef use. I am sorry for it : I shall never see good manhood 

* See Douce's Illustration of Shakspeare, A'ol. II. p. 61. 



220 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 

again If it be once gone, this poking fight of rap r and 
dagger wiU ccme up ; then a tail man, and a goo<i jrword 
and h-uclcler man, will be spitted like a cat or rabbit." But 
the rapier had upon the continent lonj; superseded, in pri- 
vate duel, the use of sword and shield. The masters of the 
noble science of defence were chiefly Italians. They made 
great mystery of their art and mode of instruction,' never 
suifered any person to be present but the scholar who was 
to be taught, and even examined closets, beds, and other 
places of possible concealment. Their lessoirs often gave 
the most treacherous advantages ; for the challenger, hav- 
ing the rigiit to chuse his weapons, frequently selected seme 
strange, unusual, and inconvenient kind of arms, the use 
of which he practised under these instructors, and thuj 
killed at his ease his antagonist, to whom it was presented 
for the first time on the fisld of battle. See Brantome's 
Discourse on Duels, and the work on the same subject, " si 
gentement ecrtt," by the venerable Dr. Paris de Puteo. The 
highlanders continued to use broadsword and target until 
disarmed after the afTair of 1743-6. 

Note V. 

Like mountain-cat, that guards her young 

Full at Fitt- James's throat he sprung. St. xvi. line 7- 

I have not ventured to render this duel so savagely des- 
pera-le as that of the celebrated Sir Kwan of Lochiel, chiei 
of the clan Cameron, called from his sable complexioDi 
Ewan Phu. He was the last man in Scotland who maintain 
ed the royal cause during the great cjvil war, and his con- 
stant incursions rendered him a very unpleasant neighboui 
to the republican garrison at Inverlochy, now Fort Wil. 
liam. The governor of the fort detached a party of three 
hundred men to lay waste Lochiel's possessions, and cu> 
down his trees ; but in a sudden and desperate attack, tnad« 
upon them by the chieftain, with very inferior numbers, 
they were almost all cut to pieces. The skirmish is detuil-i 
ed in a curious memoir of Sir Ewan's life, printed in th» 
Appendix of Pennant's Scottish Tour. 

'•In this engagement, Lochiel himself hud several won- 
derful escapes. In the retreat of the English, one o< the 
strongest and bravest of the officers retired behind a bush, 
when he observed Lochiel pursuing, and seeing him unac- 
companied with any, he leaped out, and thought him his 
prey. They met one another with equal fury. The combat 
was long and doubtful; the English gentleman had by far 
the advantage in strength ant! size ; but Lochiel exceeding 
him in ninibleness and agility, in the end uipl the sword 
out of his hand : they closed, and wrestled, till both fell to 
the ground, in each other's arms. The English officer got 
above Lochiel, and pressed him hard, but stretchine: forth 



NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH 221 

nis neck, by attempting to disen^a2:e himself, Lochiel, who 
9y this time had his hands at liberty, with his left hand 
seized him by the collar, and jumjiins^ at ins extended 
throat, he bit it with his teeth quite ihroui^h, and keot such a 
hold of his £:rasp, that it brought awny his moulhfu ' —This, 
he said, was the sweetest bite he ever hadin his lift Ame. — 
Vol. I. p. 373. 

Note VI. 

Ye towers ! within whose circuit dread, 

A Douglas by his sovereign bled; 

And thou, sad and fatal mound! 

That oft has heard the deathax^ sound! St. xx. line 17 

.Stirlin^j was often polluted with noble blood. It is thui 
apostrophized by .). .lonston: 

Discordi.i tristis 

Heii quo lies procerum sanguine tinxit humura 

Hoc uno infeiix, at lelix cetera, nusquam 

LiEtior aul co-U fron? jfeniusve soli. 
The fate of William, eighth Earl of Douglas, whom 
James 11. slabbed in Stirling Castle with his own hand, 
and while, under his royal safe-conduct, is familiar to all 
who read Sottish history. Murdac.k, Duke of Albany, 
Duncan, Earl of Lennox, his father-in-law, and his two 
sons. AVaker and Air-xander Stewart, we-re executed at 
Stirling, in 14'J5. They were beheaded upon an eminence 
without the casile walls, but making part of the same hill, 
from whence they could behold their strong castle of 
Doune, and their extensive possessions. This " heading 
hill," as it was sometimes termed, bears commonly the less 
terrible name of Hurley-hacket, from its having been the 
scene of a courtly amusement alluded to by Sir David Lind 
say, who says of the pastiiTies ia whicJi the young king was 
engaged, 

"Some harled him to the Hurley-hacket;" 
which consisted in sliding, in some sort of chair, it may be 
supposf-d, from top to bottom of a smooth bank. The boys 
of Edinburgh, about twenty years ago, used to play at the 
hurley hacket on the Calton-hill, using tor their seat a horse's 
skull, 

Note Vn. 
TJie burghers hold their sports to-day. St. xx. line 37- 
Every burgh of Scotland, of the least note, but more es- 

f>ecially- the "considerable towns, had their solemn play or 
estivai, when feats of archery were exhibiied, and prizes 
distributed to those who excelled in wrestling, hurling the 
bar, and the other gymnastic exercises of the period. Stirling 



98? NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 

a usual place of roysA residence, was not likely to be deficient 
111 pomp ujion such occasions, especially since James V. was 
very partinl to them. His ready participation in these popu- 
•ar amusements was one cause of his acquiring the title of 
Kins; of The Commons, or Rex Plebeiorum, as Lesley has 
latinized it. The usual prize to the best shooter was a 
silver arrow. Such a one is preserved at Selkirk and at 
Peebles. At Dumfries a silver gun was substituted, and the 
contention tran-ferred lo fire arms. The ceremony, as there 
performed, is the subject of an excellent Scottish poem, by 
Mr. John Mayne, entitled the Siller Gun, 1808, which sur- 
passes the efforts of i'erguson, and come.s near those of Burn* 

Note VIII. 

Robin-Hood. Stanza xxii. line 6. 

The exhibition of this renowned Outlaw and his band was 
a favourite frolic at such festivals as we are describing. This 
sport, in which kings did not disi^ain to be actors, was pro- 
hibited in Scotland upon the Reformation, by a statute of the 
6th parliament of queen Mary, C. 61, A. D. 1555, which op- 
dered. under heavy penalties, that '' na manner of person be 
chosen Robert Hude, nor little John, Abbot of Unreason, 
Q,ueen of May, nor otherwise." But, in 1561, " the rascal 
multitude," says John Knox, "were stirred up to make a 
Robin Hude, whilk enormity was of niony years left and 
damned by statute and act of parliament ; yet would they 
not be forbidden." Accordingly they raised a very serious 
tumult, and at length made prisoners the magistrates, who 
endeavoured to suppress it, and would not release them till 
Ihey extorted a formal promise that no one sh'^uld be punish- 
ed for his share of the disturbance. It would seem, from 
the complaints of the General Assembly of the Kirk, that 
these profane festivities were continued down to 1592.* Bold 
Robin was, to say the least, equally successful in maintain 
ing his ground against the reformed clergy ol England ; for 
the simple and evangelical Latimer complains of coming to 
a country church, where the people refused to hear him, 
because it was Robin Hood's day ; and his mitre and rochet 
were fain to give way to the village pastime. Much curious 
information on this subject may be found in the Preliminary 
Dissertation to the late Mr. Ritsoii's edition of tho. songs 
respecting this memorabl?; outlaw. The game of Robin-Hood 
was usually acted in May; and he was associated with the 
morrice-dancers, on whom so much illustration has been be- 
stowed by the commentators on Sli-ikspeare. A very lively 
picture of these feslivities, containing a great deal of curious 
mfoi^nation on the subject of the private life and amusements 



* Book of the Universal Kirk, p. 414 



NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. ?f21 

jf our ancestors, was thrown, by the late ingeaious Mr 
Strutt, into his Romance entitled Q,ueen- boo Hall, puuliiined 
af^r his death, in 1800. 

Note IX. 

Indifferent as to archer wigkt, 

The Monarch gave the arrow bright. St. xxii. line 22 

The Douglas of the poem is an imaginary person, a «up- 
posed uncle of the Earl of Angus. But the King's behsiviour 
during an unexpected interview with the Laird of K ilsdindie. 
one of the banished Douglases, under circumstances similar 
to those in the text, is imitated from a real story told by 
Hume of Godscroft. I would have availed myself more 
fully of the simple and affecting circumstances of the old his 
tory had they not been already woven into apathetic ballad 
by my friend Mr. Finlay.* 



• Sec Scottish! flistorical and Romantic Rallnds, Glasgow. 
1808, vol H. p. m Gods<;ioft's story mR.y also be fwind io 
the BlinilreJsy of the Scottish Border, vol. I Introduction 
p. "1, r,ote 



I 



NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 



Not« 1. 

These drsw not for their fields the sword. 
Like tenants of a feudal lord, 
J^or owji'd the p atriarchal claim 
Of chieftain in their leader's name ; 
Adventurers they. Stanza iii. line 1. 

The ScoUish armies consisted chiefly of the nobilit 
• nd barons, with their vassals, who held lands under then 
for military service by themselves and their tenants. Th» 
patriarchal influence exercised by the heads of clans ii 
the highlands and borders was of a difTeient nature, an* 
sometimes at variance with fiMjdal principles. It flowed 
from the Patria Potestas, exercised by the chieftain as re- 
presenting the original father of the whole pame, and was 
oftec obeyed in contradiction to the feudal superior. James 
V, seems first to have introduced, in addition to the militia 
furnished from these sources, the service of a small number 
of mercenaries, who formed a body-guard, called the Foot- 
Band. The satiricnl poet, sir David Lindsay, (or the per- 
son who wrote the prologue to his play of the '• Three 
Estaites,") has introduced Finlay of the Foot-Band, who, 
after much swaggering on the stage, is at kngth put to 
flight by the fool, who terrifies him by means of a sheep's 
tkull upon a pole. I have rather chosen to give them the 
harsh features of the mercenary soldiers of the period, thau 
of this Scottish Thraso. These partook of the character of 
the Adventurous Companions of Froissart,or the Condottieri 
of Italy. 

One of the best and liveliest traits of such manners is l-he 
last will of a leader, called Geffroy Tele Noir, who having 
been sliu^htly wounded in a skirmish, his intemperance 
brought on a mortal disease. When he found himseif dying, 
he summoned to his bedside the adventurers whom he com 
manded, and thus addressed them : 

" Fayre sirs, qucd Gi-fifray, I knowe well ye have alwaye. 
served and honoured me as men aught to serve their sove 
ravgne and CHptayne, and I shal be the gladder if ye wyll 
agre to hav.- to your caplayne one that is discended of my 
bfoode. Behold here Aleyne Roux, my cosy n, and Peter his 
brother, who are men of arms and of my )ode. I require you 
to make Al.vne youre captayne, and t^'-wear to hun fay the, 
obevsaunce, love' and lovalte, here in my presence, and &ttc 
(.!» Ki» brother: huwe be it, I wyll that Alevne have th* ■v.'"- 
P 



«56 IVOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 

rayne charge. Sir, quod they, we are well content, for y« 
bauve rygiil we".l chosen. There all the companions made 
theym s^rvyant to Aleyne Roux and to Peter his brother. 
Whan all that was done, then Getfraye speak agayne, and 
sayde: No we, sirs, ye hauve obeyed to my pleasure, I canne 
you great Ihanke ; wherefore, sirs, I wyll ye have parte of 
that ye have hopen to conquer. I save unlo you, that in yon- 
der chest that ye se stande yonder, therein is to the sum of x\% 
thousands franks, — I wyll give them accordynge to my con- 
scynence, Wyll ye all be content to fulfyle my testament j 
how say ye 1 Sir, quod they, we be ryght well contente to 
fullfyle your commaundment. Thane first-e, quod he, I wyll 
and give to the chapell of Saynt George, here in this castell, 
for the reparacions therof, a thousand and five hundred 
frankes : and I gyve to my lover, v/ho hath truely served me, 
two thousand and five hundred frankes : and also I gyve to 
Aleyne Roux, youre newe captpyne, four thousand frankes: 
also to the varieties of my chambre I gyve fyve hundred 
frankes. To myne offycers I gyve a thousande and (yve hun- 
drede frankes. The rest I a:y ve and bequeth as I shall shewe 
you. Yc be upon a thyrlie companyons all of one sorte j 
ye ought to be bretherne, and all of one alyaunce, with- 
out debate, ryotte, or stryfe among you. All this that 1 
have shewed you ye shall fynde in yonder cheste. I wyll 
that ye depart all the resydue equally and truelly bitvvene 
you thyrtie. And if ye be nat thus contente, but that the 
devyll wyll set debate betwene you, than beholde yonder 
is a strong axe, breke up the coffer, and gette it who can. 
To those wordes every man ansuered and said, Sir, and 
dere maister, we are and shall be all of one accord. Sir, 
we have so moche loved and douted you, that we will breke 
QO coffer, nor breke no poynt of that ye have ordayned and 
commanded." — Lord Berners FroissarL 

Note II 

TIiou now bast glee-maiden and harp ; 

Oet thee an ape, and trudge the land, 

The leader of a juggler band. Stanza vi. line 23. 

The jongleurs, or jugglers, as we learn from the elabo- 
rate work of the late Mr. Strutt, on the Sports and Pas- 
times of the people of England, used to call in the aid of 
various assistants, to render these performances as capi- 
rating as (lossible. The glee-maiden was a necessary at- 
tendant. Her duty was tumbling and dancing ; and there- 
fore the Anglo-Saxon version of the Saint Mark's Gospel 
states Herodias to have vaulted or tumbled before king 
Herod, In Scotland, these poor creatures seen.>, even at a 
late period, to have been bonds-women to their roasters, 
ae appears from a case reported by Fountainhall. '' Reid 
tkM» BMuntebank pursues Scot of Harden and his lady, hi 



» 



NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. m 

Wealing away from him a little girl, called the (iimbling- 
lassie, that danced upon his stage ; and he d.-iimed da- 
mages, and i^roduced a contract, whereby he bought her 
from her mother, for JOZ., Scots. But we have oo slaves in 
Scotland, and mothers cannot sell their bairns ; and physi- 
cians attested, the employment of tumbling would kill her; 
and her joints wt- re now grown stiff, and she declined to 
return ; though she was at least a 'prentice, and so could not 
run away from her master ; yet some cited Moses' law, that 
if a servant shelter himself with thee, against his master's 
cruelty, thou shalt surely not deliver him up. The lords, 
renitente caneellario, assoilzied Harden, on the 27th of Janu- 
ary, (lti87.)" — FountainhaW s Decisions, vol. I. p 439.* 

The facetious quiilitics of the ape soon rendered him ao 
acceptable addition to the strolling band of the jongleur. 
Ben Jonson, in his spli^netic introduction to the comedy of 
'•Bartholomew Fair," is at pains to inform the audience 
that '" he has ne'er a sword and buckler man in his fair, nor 
a juggler, with a well educated ape to come over the chaine 
for the liing of England, and back again for the prince, and 
sit still on his haunches for the pope and the king of Spainc." 

Note III. 
T/iat stirring air whichjicals on high. 
O'er Dermid's race our victory,— 

Strike it. Stanza xiv. line 9 

There are several instances, at least in tradition, ol 
jjersons so much attached to particular tunes, as to require 
to hear them on their death-bed. Such an anecdote is 
mentioned by the late Mr. Riddle, of Glenriddle, in his 
collection of Border tunes, respecting an air called the 
"Dandling of the Bairns," for which a certain Gallovidian 
laird is said to have evinced this strong mark of partiality. 
It is popularly told of a famous freebooter, that he com- 
posed the tune known by the name of Macpherson's Rant 
while under sentence of death, and played it at the gal- 
lows-tree. Some spirited words have been adapted to it 
by Burns. A similar story is recounted of a Welch bard, 
who composed and played on his death-bed the air called 
Dafydd y Garegg IVen. 

* Though less to my purpose, I cannot help noticing a 
circumwan< e respecting another of this Mr. Reid's attend 
ants, which occurred during James II. 's zeal for catholic 
proselytism, and is told by Fouutainhall, with dry Scottish 
irony. " January llth, 1687 — Reid, the mountebank, is re 
ceived Into the pojjish church, and one of his blackamores 
was persuaned to accept of baptism from the popish piiests, 
and to t.'rn cnrislain papist ; which was a preat trophy : h« 
was called ^\mes, after the king and chancelkir, and Um« 
apostle James." — Ibid. p. 4'10 



2^ NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 

But the most curious example is j^iven by Brantome, 
o( a maid of honour at the court of France, entitl^, 
Mademoi:selle de Lifneuil '' Durant sa maladie, dont ene 
trespassa, jamais elle ne cessa, ains causa tousjours; car 
fcUe estoit fort grande parleuse, brocardeuse, et tres-bien 
p.t fort a propos, et tres-belle avec ceia. Q,uaiid I'heure de 
sa fin fut venue, elle fit venir a soy son valet, (ainsi que 
le fiUss de la cour erj ont chacune un) qui s'iippelloil 
Julien. et scavoit tres bien jouer du violon. • Julien, luy 
dit elle, prenez vostre violon et sonnez moy tousjours 
jusques a ce que me voyez morte (car je m'y en vais,; la 
defaite des Suisses, et le niieux que vous pourrez. et 
quand vous serez sur le mot: 'Tout est perdu,' sonnez le 
par quatre ou c'lng fcis, le plus piteusement que vous 
pourrez ;' ce qui fit I'autre, et elle-mesme luy ai doit de la 
voix, et quand ce vint -tout est perdu,' elle le reitera par 
deux fois; et se tournant de I'autre coste du chevet, elle dit 
a ses compagnes : 'Tout est perdu a ce coup, et a bon es- 
cient;' et ainsi deceda, Voila une morte joyeuse et plai- 
sante. Je tiens ce conte de deux de des compagnes, dignes 
de foi, qui virent jouer ce mystere." — (Euvresde Brantome. 
III. 507. 

The tune to wrhirh this fair lady chose to make her final 
exit was composed on the defeat of the Swiss at Marignano. 
The burthen is quoied by Panurjre, in Kabelai?, and consists 
of these words, imitatinsf (he jargon of the Siviss, which is 
a mixture of French and German. 

Tout est verlore 
La Tintelore 
Tout est verlore, bi Got ! 

Note IV. 
Battle of Bear an Duine. Stanza xr. line 1. 

A skirmish actually took place at a pass thus called, la 
the Trosachs, and closed with the remarkable incident men- 
tioned in the text. It was greatly posterior in date to the 
reign of James V. 

"In this roughly- wooded island,* the country people se- 
creted their wives and children, and their most valuable 
eflfects, from the rapacity of Cromwell's soldiers, during theit 
inroad into this cotmlry, in the time ot the republic. 

These invaders, not venturing to ascend by the ladders, 
along the side of the lake, took a more circuitous road, 
through the heart oi' the Trosaclis, the most frequented path 
At Ibat time, which penetrates the wilderness about halfway 
between Binean and the lake, by a tract called Yea'Ckaille- 
*ch, ortheOld Wife's Bog. 



* Tnat at the eastern extremity of Loch-Katrine, so often 
mentioned in the text 



NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. SSy 

" Id one of the defiles of this by-road, the men of the 
country at that time hung upon the rear of tlie invading 
enemy, and shot one of Cromwell's men, whose grave 
marks the scene of a(;tion, and gives name to that jiass.* 
In revenue of this insult, the soldiers resolved to plunderthe 
island, to violate the women, and put the children to death. 
Willi this brutal intention, one of tlie party, more experi 
than the rest, swam towards the island, to fetch the boat t<; 
his comrades, which had carried the women to their asylum, 
and lay moored in one of the creeks. His companions stood 
jn the shore of the main land, in fuli view of all that was lo 
pass, waiting anxiously for his return with the boat. But, 
just as xhe swii/imer had got to the nearest point of the is- 
I-ind, and was laying hold of a bhick rock, to get on shore, a 
lieroine, who stood on the very point wiiere he meant to land, 
hastily snatching a dagger from below her apron with one 
stroke .levcred his head from the body. His party seeing 
this disaster, and relinquishing all future ho[)e of revenge or 
conquest, made the best of their w:iy out of their perilous 
situation. This amazon's great grandson lives at Mridge of 
Turk, who besides others, attests the anecdote." — Sketch of 
the Scenery near Callander. Stirling, 1806, p. 20. 1 have 
only to add to this account, that the heroine's name was 
Helen Stuart. 

Note V. 

An.d Snowdoun's knight is Scotland'' s king- — 

Stanza xxvi. line 26. 

This discovery will probably remind the reader of the 
bcauiiful'.Arabian tale of // Bondocani. Vet the incident 
is not borrowed from that elegant story, but from Scottish 
tradition. James V. of whom we are treating, was a monarch 
whose good and benevolent intentions oftt-n rendered his 
romantic freaks venial, if not respectable, since, from his 
anxious attention to the interests of the lower and most op- 
pressed class of his subjects, he was. as we have seen, popu- 
itirly termed the King of the Commons. For tne purpose 
of seeing Jhat justice was regularly administered, and fre- 
quently from the Itss justifiable motive of gallantry, he used 
to traverse the vicinage of his severa! palaces in various 
disguises. The two excellent comic songs entitled '*The 
Gamberlunzie man," and " We'll gae nae mair a roving" 
are said to have been founded upon the success of his amor- 
ous adventures when travelling in the disguise of a beggar. 
The latter is perhaps the best comic ballad in any language. 

Another adventure, which had lu-arly cost .James his life, 
IS said to have taken pla.ce at the village of CVaminond, near 
Edinburgh, where he had rendered his adiresses accepiablc 



''' Beallach an duine 



!^ NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 

to R pretty girl of the lower rank. Four or five persooa, 
whether relations or lovers of his mistress is uncertain, beset 
the disguised monarch, ns he returned from his rendeavous, 
Naturally gallant, and an admirable master of his weapon, 
the king took post on the high and narrow bridge over the 
Almond river, and defeaded liimself bravely with his sword. 
A I'easant who was thrcsliing in a neighbouring barn cani« 
out upon the noise, and, whether moved by compassion or 
bv natural gallantry, took the weaker side, and laid about 
with his flail so effectually, as to d-isperse the assilants, well 
threshed, even according to the letter. He iher. conducted 
the king into his barn, where his guest requested a basio 
and towel, to remove the stains of the broil. This being pro- 
cured with difflcuity, James employed himself in learning 
what was the summit of his deliverer's earthly wishes, and 
found that they were bounded by the desire of possessing, in 
property, the farm of Rraehesid, upon which he iabocred as a 
bondsman. The lands chanced to belong to the crown ; and 
JatTU's directed him to come to the palace of Holy Rood, and 
inquire for the Guid-man (» e. farmer) of Ballangiech, a name 
by which he was known in his excursions, and which answer 
ed to Jl Bo7J</oca7!t of Haroun Alraschid. fie presented him- 
self accordingly, and found, with due astonishment, that he 
had saved his monarch's life, and tliat he was to be gratified 
with a crown-chaiter of the lands of Braehend, under the 
service of presenting an ewer, basin, and towel, for the king 
to wash his hands, when he shall happen to pass the Bridge 
of Crammond. This person was ancestor of the Howisons 
of Brnehead, in Mid Lothian, a respectalile family, who con- 
tinue to hold the lands (now passed into the female line> un- 
der the same tenure. 

Another of James's frolics is thus narrated by Mr. Camp- 
bell from the Statistical Account. •' Being once benighted 
when cut a hunting, and separated from his attendants, he 
happened to enter a cottage, in the midst of a moor, at the 
foot of the Ochil hills near Alloa, where, unknown, he was 
kindly received. In order to regale their unexpected guest, 
the ffude-vian (i. c landlord, farmer,) desired the gude-wife 
to letch the hen that roosted nearest the cock, which is 
always the plumpest, for the stranger's supper- The king, 
highly pleased with his night's lodging and hospitable en- 
tertainment, told mine host at parting, that he should be 
glad to return his civility, and requested that the first time 
he came to Stirling he would call at the castle, and mquire 
for th« gude-man of Ballingivch. Donaldson, the landlord, 
did not fail to call on the gude-man of Ballingicch^ when 
his astonishment at finding that the king had been his 
guest, ufl'orded no small amusement to the merry monarch 
and his courtiers; and to carry on the jileasantry, he was 
lh«;r:ceforth designa'ed by James with the title of Kii-g of 
Ihe iVIoors, which name and designation have descended 



NOTES TO CANTO _IXTH. laj 

from fatht-r to son ever since, and they have continued in 
possession of the identical spot, the property of Mr. Krskina 
of Mnr, till very lately, when this genlieman, willi reluc- 
tance, turned out the descendant and representative of the 
Kinsf of the Moors, on account of his majesty's invincible 
indolence and great dislike to reform or innovation of any 
kind, although, from the spirited examjile of his neighbour 
tenants on the same estate, he is couvmced similar exertioa 
would promote his advantage. *' 

The author requests permission yet further " -vnfy the 
"(ubject of his poem, by an extract from the fijent-cui^ical 
work of Buchanan of Aiichmar, upon Scottish surnames 

''This John Buchanan of Auchmar and Arnpryor was 
afterward termed King of Kippcn,"* upon the following 
account. King; Janp's V. a very sociable, debonair prince, 
lesiding at Siirlins^, in Hiichanan of Arnpryor's time, car- 
riers were very frequently passing along tlie common road, 
bemg near Arnpryor's house, with necessaries for the use 
of the King's family, and he having some extraordinary 
occasion, ordered one of these -carriers to leave his load at his 
house, and he woiihl pay him font ; which tlie carrier refused 
to do. telling him he w;!S the king's carrier, and his load for 
his majesty's use ; to whirli .Arnpryor s<-umed to have small 
regard, rompelling the carri'T in the end. to leave his load; 
telling him, if King .lames was king of Scotland he was king 
of Kippen, so that it was reusonalile he should share with his 
aeighboiiring king in some of these loads, so frequently car- 
ried that road. The carrier representing this usage, and 
telling the story, as Arnpryor spoke it, to some of the king's 
servants, it came at length to his majesty's ears, who, shortly 
thereafter, with a few attendants, came to visit his neighbour 
king, who was in the mean time at dinner. King James 
having sent a servant to demand access, w;isder.icd the same 
by a tall fellow with a batile-ai, who stood porter at the 
gate, telling, there could be no access till dinner was over 
This answer not satisfying the king, he sent to demand 
access a second time ; upon which he was desired by the por- 
ter to desist, otherwise he would find cai'se to repent hii 
rudeness. His majesty findioj^ this method would not do, 
desired tlie porter to lell his master that the good man oi 
Ballangiech desired to speak with the King of Kippen. The 
porter teiling Arnpryor so much, he, in nil humble manner, 
came and received the king, and having entertained hiin 
with much sumptr->usnnss and jollity, became so agreeabl" 
to King .lames, t>,ji |in allowed him to lake so m.ich of anv 
provision he foi^-o tMivmg that road as he ha■^ occasion 
for; and, seeing he made the first visit, dcsirid Arnpry ir in 
a few days to return him a second at Stirling, whicii he per- 
formed, and continued in very much favour with the k'Hjf 

• A small district ot Perthshire. 



232 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 

always thereaf'ier l<eing termed Kin^ of Kipjien wlitic he liv 
ed." — Buchanan's Kssay vpon the Fainili/ of Buchanan. 
Edin. 1775, 8vo. p. 74. 

The readers of Ariosto must five credit for the aniiabk 
features wilii which he is represented, since he is generally 
considered as the prototype of Zerbino. the most interesting 
*iero of the Orlando Furii)iO • 



Note VI. 



-Stirling's lower 



Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims. St. xxviil. line 16. 

William of Worcester, who wrote about the middle of tht 
afteenlh century, calls Stirling castle Snowdoun. Sir David 
Lindsay bestows the same epithet upon it in his CompIaiDl 
of the papingo. 

Adeiu, fair Snawdoun, with thy tovrers high, 
Thy chapleroyal, park, and table round; 
May, June, and July would I dwell in thee, . 
Were I a man, to hear the bardis sound, 
Whilk doth agane thy royal rock rebound. 

Mr. Chamlers, in his late excellent edition of Sir David 
fjindsay's works, has refuted the chimerical derivation of 
Snawdoun {or sneddinff, or cuti'ing. It was probably deriv 
ed from the romantic legend which connected Stirling with 
King Arthur, to which the mention of the Round I'able 
gives countenance. The ring within which justs were for 
merly practised, in the castle park, is still called the Round 
Table. Snawdoun is the official title of one of the Scottish 
heralds, whose e[(ithet seem in all countries to have been 
fantastically adopted from ancient history or romance 

It appears from the preceding note, that the real name by 
which James was actually distinguished in his private ex 
cursions, was the goodman of Ballangiech ; derived from & 
sleep pass leading to the castle of Stirling, so called. Bui 
the epithet would not have suited poetry, and would besidei 
at once, and prematurely, have announced the plot to many 
of my counlrymeit), among whom th^ traditional stor>8 above 
mentioned are still current. 



The author ha; to apologize for the inadvertent approprw 
Udo cf a whole liiie from the tragedy of Douglag- 

'•I luld the first who strikes, my foe." 



1 









fj^kjj^j^^Mj^^ 



^wmm 



'i^)r'U^}U^^^ 






jB^^^CW^S 



33p«ww 



«a«Kb? 






y^Wyi 



iJp^S^ 



^^iw-^w^^y^ ^"^" 



:m.:f',yy\ 






kKAJ ^^'J' 



War Department Library 

Washington, D. C. 

Mo. J<'^ 




Losses or injuries 
must be promptly ad- 
justed. 

No books issued 
during the month 
of August. 

Time Limits : 
Old books, two 
weeks subject to 
renewal at the op- 
tion of the Librarian. 
New books, one 
week only. 



ACME LIBRARY CARD POCKET 
Mad« by LIBRARY BUREAU, Boston 



KEEP YOUR CARD IN THIS POCKET 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





014 528 825 3 






'^m 



^ 


I'm'* ^ J<^ ':mK^V'."^S%.;«^HH!P 


'■^^^^S^fe': 


1 




E 


^i^l^l 


m 


•< 


pw 


i 



